


The Art of Tying Bonds With Scissors

by lysanatt



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A/B/O, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arranged Marriage, Bonding, Coercion, Hunter!AU, Knotting, M/M, Romance, Were-Creatures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-03
Updated: 2013-12-03
Packaged: 2018-01-02 17:19:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 61,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1059499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lysanatt/pseuds/lysanatt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sam unexpectedly bonds with Lucifer, a high-ranking traditionalist alpha, Sam's beliefs about free will are put to the test. But bond or no bond: there is no way Sam will let biology get the better of him. When Castiel, Lucifer's younger brother, makes an offer that Sam literally cannot resist, Sam knows it's his chance to be free of Lucifer for good. Still, living with one mate while being unhappily tied to another is like tying bonds with scissors: it's doable, but it certainly isn't easy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Turn and Take Your Journey

**Author's Note:**

>   
> 
> 
> First of all, thank you to my lovely artist Mein (Meinarch/Kidezt) who worked hard and made the most gorgeous art and graphics for my fic. Not only did I get beautiful art, but I got a friend as well. <3 Mein! Also a great thank you to the mods for running the BB, and to Susan for input.
> 
> Chapter titles from the Bible, all quotes related to Lebanon one way or another.

* * *

"He's family, Dean. We can't just leave him there in that old house. It's Dad's fault to begin with, and-" 

"Don't you blame Dad for it. You can't do that!" Dean glares at Sam angrily.

Sam shuts his mouth for a moment when Dean interrupts. He doesn't want to budge, although his instincts are screaming at him to bare his throat for Dean. "Watch me," he says testily. "And if I'm not gonna blame Dad, then who? He was the one who had something on the side while being married to Mom. What do you want us to do? Ignore that we have an illegitimate younger brother; an illegitimate _orphaned_ younger brother, that is."

"He can manage on his own. He's seventeen, Sam. Eighteen in a few months."

"Yeah, he is. And when he turns eighteen, none of his mother's creditors are going to leave him alone. Whether he wants it or not they're going to drag him off to the Alliance. They're gonna auction him off. Delicious treat for some old creep. Sure, it covers the debt Adam inherited from his Mom. Awesome." Sam glares at Dean. "So this is what we've become? You wanna sink that low? Let the kid take on the debt that is basically Dad's fault-"

Dean slams his palm down on the roof of the Impala. "Son of a _bitch_! It's not as if I'm asking him to sell his soul or anything. It isn't Dad's fault that Adam's mother couldn't keep her paws off of Dad, is it?"

Sam sighs deeply. Sometimes Dean is so incredibly stubborn and, well, _stubborn_. Sam throws the pebbles he's been playing with on the ground before he opens the door to the passenger seat. "Dad got a beta pregnant and left her to fend for the kid. No matter if you like it or not, she indebted herself to give Dad's illegitimate pup a decent upbringing. How is that not his fault? A clear case of fuck-and-run. He was a damned alpha and he took advantage of it." Sam slides into the seat, his body tense with conflict and the urge to roll over and let his stupid alpha brother have it his way. He lets out a low growl, eyes flashing at Dean as he gets into the Impala. Sam slams the door hard.

"Don't take it out on my baby," Dean lectures, pointing at Sam. Dean sighs, gripping the wheel. He stares out the windshield, not looking at Sam. "So, what is it you wanna do?" Dean asks. "I get it, Adam is pack, sort of, but..." Dean's hands move restlessly for a few seconds before he stops fiddling with the wheel. He glances at Sam, avoiding looking directly at him. "I could order you not to do it."

"Yeah, and you think that'd help?" Sam cringes. He doesn't think that Dean will order him to do anything, he never does. But if Dean tries, Sam can fight it, he can. He will not give in to any alpha, not even to Dean. Least of all to Dean. Not in this. Adam has dreams, a life of his own. The sort of life that comes with a house, a wife and a white picket fence. 

"No." Dean shakes his head. "You're even more stubborn than me. Sometimes I wonder how you came out omega, because you're-" Dean turns to look Sam in the eyes. His eyes soften from granite to velvet. "You know I wouldn't. Make you, I mean." Dean reaches out, his fingers closing a bit too hard around Sam's wrist, both dominant and reassuring at the same time. "If this is really what you wanna do, sacrifice yourself, I won't stand in the way. It's just that-" Dean pauses, searching for the words. "I want you with me. If we're ever going to make our own pack, I need you with me. At least make it a condition. The buyer goes with our pack. Sam, I'm not going to Lebanon without you."

They've talked about it, going solo in Kansas. Their grandfather had a farm there a long time ago; that's about all the roots they have, tumbleweed as they have been all their life. Sam would like to have that pack; he'd _love_ to. Dean would be a great pack alpha and Sam has been dreaming of a more stable way of living. He's an unmated omega, not a child — he doesn't have to be subordinate to some asshole alpha. He wants to be with Dean. Sam wants to help create a pack that works the way _they_ want it. A pack that's based on their ideas, a pack that caters to their needs. Something of their own.

As it is, they're Hunters, their ancestors were all Hunters' Pack, but now the Hunter family is spread all over America and Europe, restless travelers all. Being in the Hunters' loosely knit pack is as good as having none. Okay, so the good part is that their pack alpha, Bobby, is a nice, but distant guy. They both love Bobby; he's like a second father to them, alpha only in the sense that he's a rather gruff natural leader. He cares about his pack, but they're not really this tightly knit family group that packs are supposed to be, at least in Sam's opinion. They are not pack, they are merely weres committed to a constant quest that never ends. It's a hell of a life, belonging nowhere. Sam knows that he's not alone, wishing for better. Adam want to study medicine, become a doctor, but as it is now, with his mother's debt hanging threateningly over his head, there is no other way but for Adam but to sell himself. Sam admires Adam's stubborn determination. Nothing will come of it, but Sam cannot but respect his younger brother for still having hopes and dreams.

Sam sighs. "I'd like us to stay together." He turns and looks at Dean, his eyes focused and sharp. "I can't imagine not living with you. Our own pack. Our own house. Yeah. I'd like that. And I'd like Adam to be with us. Too much attitude and anger. He'll fit right in."

"White picket fence, Sammy?"

"It's not what I want. I mean... How could I ever?" Sam sinks back into the seat as Dean fires up the V8. The Impala rumbles down the pebbled road; the rough sound of tires crunching their way across the muddy potholes makes him stop speaking for a minute. As soon as the car's tires sing the song of the velvet-smooth blacktop, Sam turns to look at Dean who in turn looks at the road ahead. "No, I don't want anything like that," Sam repeats. "Don't think I can do it. I don't even like white picket fences. But... if I can let Adam have what he wants... the house his mom kept for him, the _chance_ we never got..." Sam rambles along, not sure it comes across at all why it's important to him. 

He's a lost case, and so is Dean. They are lost kids, but Adam is not. Not yet.

They are never going to have happy, quiet lives. They are too jaded, too different. Too ruined, all thanks to the father who managed to ruin everything for their brother, too, just by breeding with his beta mother. For Adam, there's hope still, if only they can get the creditors off his back. Adam's a Hunter, and technically he and his mother belong to the vast Hunter pack since Adam was sired by a Winchester. But if they do this right, Adam will never have do what the rest of them does: hunt other supernatural beings to keep humans off their backs. Humans don't see the difference, Sam knows, between ghosts and sirens and vampires and weres. The less humans know, the better. The Hunter pack have used centuries, hunting other things that go bump in the night so that the were community could stay off the radar, protecting the secrecy of the packs. Keeping humans in blessed ignorance about weres is the key to their survival, even if it means that they're spending their lives Thelma-and-Louising, although with a less fatal end. Adam is their responsibility, and Sam is willing to do what's necessary to protect his younger brother. He knows what he must do.

Dean reads his mind with ease. "If you sell yourself to the Alliance, you're probably not going to be allowed to-" Dean stops himself. He knows as well as Sam does that the moment Sam signs a contract with the Alliance he is no longer a Hunter. "I'm not going hunting without you, Sammy," Dean states. "We should both sign up, then. I've heard that the Alliance takes in alphas, too, and that we're much sought after. I say we go in there, totally clear about our demands. We're hunters, but we want to have mates who are willing to go with us to our own pack. Let's see what the Alliance is willing to pay us. If we stick together, maybe we can have the cake and eat it, too. Our pack, our rules."

Sam stares surprised and wide-eyed at his brother. He hadn't seen that one coming. Maybe Dean truly wants out as well? It's making this distant dream that they've talked about so many times a little bit more real. Sam doesn't say anything like 'really?' or 'you shouldn't do it, your freedom is too valuable' or 'you're entitled to a life of your own'. Sam just looks, seeing the determination shine in Dean's eyes. He nods, once. 

Dean, too, nods, a quiet promise, before he turns the car around, towards Detroit, towards the Alliance's main office.

The plush carpet mutes their steps, boots sinking deep into dark brown, luxurious wool. There's modern art on the walls, sophisticated renderings of pack life in muted, warm colors. Everything simply breathes money and style. Sam raises an eyebrow, letting out a stream of air. They are so out of their league here. Sam knows that they are both good-looking and smart, but in these surroundings they're merely bastard pups, farm-born and bred at the rear end of Assbutt, Kansas.

A girl greets them. She's dressed in something fancy that Sam thinks costs more than what he has spent on clothes in a decade. Her smile is sophisticated, too, professional and kind, with just the right hint of a question hidden in it. There are no traces of disdain. "How may I help you?" she asks, the small polished brass tag on her chest moving as she breathes in. The words _Anna Milton-Nadanos, Secretary_ blink and makes Dean look away from the woman's nice chest for a moment. It could just as well has said _Queen Anna_. Yeah, the Milton pack came over with _that_ ship. And the Nadanos pack.... Myth has it that they originate from the first wolves that left Heaven with the humans after the fall of man. Sam takes a deep breath. Beta. Ms Milton-Nadanos's expensive perfume does nothing to hide it.

"Dean Winchester of the Hunters." Dean steps closer and sends Anna his most charming smile, his attitude that of the confident alpha he appears to be. "This is my brother Sam. We're here to see-" he stops, looking at a small scrap of paper, pretending he's forgotten his name. He hasn't. No one forgets the name of the Alliance's reputed CEO. "Zachariah."

Sam still wonders why they are seeing someone like Zachariah. They are ordinary pack members, nothing special about them, apart from the hunting. As Hunters aren't exactly rare, Sam is sure that it isn't the first time the Alliance has taken one of them into their fold: the Hunter pack is poor. There are times when an arranged marriage and a substantial dowry is preferable to poverty. Why they have earned this special treatment, Sam has no idea.

Anna's face lights up and the professionalism slides a bit. "Sam and Dean Winchester." She appreciates them openly, more like cattle than weres, but still. "We've been expecting you. We have had several bids for you both already, despite your rather... special conditions." She waves with a hand at a couple of chairs that look like sculptures. "Please, take a seat. Zachariah will see you immediately, and I'll have your stylists ready for you as soon as the paperwork is done."

"Stylists?" Sam blinks. He's wearing his nicest clothes, and there is nothing wrong with them.

"Sweetheart, you can't meet your mate in _that_." She indicates Sam's clean, faded jeans and the loose plaid shirt. "We at the Alliance pride ourselves in delivering only the highest quality partners. And farm fresh is _so_ last season. Our customers pay for the best, and we are giving it to them." She smiles, merely a tad condescending. "When we're done with you, your price will have doubled, compared to what we can get for you... unpolished."

"Oh." Sam doesn't complain. He still doesn't think that there is anything wrong with his clothes, but since they're signing up to save Adam and secure themselves a fortune so they can start their own pack, they can just as well do it properly. "All right." 

Dean sends Sam an exasperated glance. It's quite clear what Dean thinks of the idea. Wisely, Dean keeps his mouth shut. Money talks, and they're certainly doing the talking right now. "Farm fresh?" Dean says, a low growl muted behind a hand. "You wanna get out of here, Sammy?"

Sam wants to, but it doesn't help Adam. Of course they could just ditch their brother, letting him deal with the Alliance and the obligations by himself. It's basically damned stupid to agree to cover a debt that has nothing to do with them. Only Adam's seventeen and they _can't_. Sam can't do it, no matter how much he'd like to wriggle his way out of this one. And since Dean has decided that they're in it together, that's what they're doing. "No. Suck it up, dude. We're selling and somebody's buying. Stylists are probably not going to be the worst we'll encounter before we're done."

Before Dean replies, Anna's phone is ringing. She stands and motions at them to follow her. This is it: they're going to sell themselves, joining the selection of eligible mates for those unfortunate enough to never have met a suitable one. They are going to be mated to those rich enough to afford the service that the Alliance provides. They are going to be mated to those select few who are rich enough to pay both Sam and Dean the inordinate amount they have been promised for their compliance.

They are going to be paid enough to save their brother from a life in Hell. 

Instead they are going in his place. 

And Hell clearly is ruled by a middle-aged men in impeccable suits. Zachariah is all efficiency and business as he greets them with barely enough warmth to make them feel welcome. They sit down at a huge mahogany desk, almost drowning in the soft, comfortable chairs. There's a small table with a tray and a few bottles on one side. Dean pours himself a glass, not caring to ask permission. The whiskey smells like ripe bananas and spices.

Zachariah puts a copy of what might be their contracts in front of each of them. "Let's go through the contract. We agree to pay you a minimum... we have discussed that already over the phone. Each of you will receive the amount in two rates: one at the signing of the contract, one immediately following your confirmed mating bite. If the bids get higher than we expect, you get a similarly higher rate. You have the right to refuse a potential mate twice. Third time you will take the buyer bidding for you. Use your refusals wisely. You are under a clause of discretion; you are not to speak to others about what or who you see here. That goes for our clients as well. Discretion. The fines for breaking the confidentiality clause are excruciating and the amount you'll pay us for breaking the contract is even higher. I wouldn't recommend it. You may discuss your potential mates between you, _if_ you are discreet, but kindly do so as little as possible. Preferably without mentioning names."

Zachariah looks at them, his hands folded. He looks annoyingly sanctimonious. "We _do_ screen our clients, but we do not exclude those with old-fashioned ideas; be aware that you," Zachariah looks pointedly at Sam, "being an independent omega, might not wish to agree to such a mate. It would be easier for you if you left those modern ideas of yours. However, we _will_ try to steer clear of traditional alphas for your sake, and for ours, but we're a business, not a charity. We aim for satisfaction, and some old-fashioned alphas like a challenge, as if it'd make them look better to tear a proud omega into bits and pieces and reassemble them as obedient little omega bitches. You, Sam, would certainly be such a challenge. Some would love the opportunity of breaking you in."

Sam feels nauseous at the thought. Being knotted and bred, being little more than a fuck toy and a hole to fill with pups... that's not exactly Sam's idea of a great life. He nods. "I'll keep that in mind." Sam would not want to end up with someone whose ideas about omegas run along the sadistic and cruel. He has not refused to mate for so long only to end up with a nightmare of an alpha. He has to believe that Zachariah tells the truth: that the Alliance is careful when they suggest possible mates to the involved parties. The chances are that Sam won't have to reject anyone at all. The man in question just needs to be tolerable and preferably not too stupid, and Sam will be fine. He does not want his mating to be a battlefield. He's bound to lose anyway because he will die fighting since he will only submit if his alpha forces him.

"And," Dean says, his voice cold and hard, "you have made it very clear to our potential mates that they must agree to join the Winchester pack? I am pack alpha, and they agree to that as well? That goes for Sam's potential mate especially."

"Shouldn't be a problem since we rarely offer up any alphas at all. We don't get too many of you; and none with your looks. Omegas rarely have the luxury of choice. We have bids raising at the fastest rate since Anna — Ms Milton-Nadanos — offered herself up to an alpha-omega couple in search of a beta. You wouldn't believe me if I told you what kind of money she got out of it. She owns thirty percent of the company now. And you? You are a very sought-after alpha, Mr Winchester. When we are done with you, you will also be a very wealthy one."

Sam understands that he's not remotely as attractive Dean. Neither are housebroken and Sam's a lowly omega. He merely has to believe that there are alphas out there, alphas like Dean, who don't want a meek little bitch to push out their puppies and clean their house in between breedings. Sam needs to believe in his own worth.

"So, Sam can just walk out of here?" Dean asks suddenly. "I mean, the money I get? They cover the entire amount we asked initially?"

"Yes. By far." Zachariah doesn't look satisfied. "Except I already have appointments set up for him. It will reflect upon the flawless reputation of this company if we have to cancel them."

Sam wants to point out that they haven't yet signed any contracts. They can do what the hell they want until their signatures are on the dotted line. They can let Zachariah stew in his own juices. It's tempting. But Sam knows that's not an option. Neither is it an option to leave Dean to pick up the pieces, selling himself so he can let Sam off the hook. They're in this together. Sam leans forward. "I'm not going anywhere. I want to have this chance of forming a new pack with my brother, and if you give us that, we're not going to be trouble," Sam says firmly, more bossy than he usually is.

Zachariah is clearly beta like the secretary, or simply very good at hiding what he is, for Sam can't read him or smell anything, any reaction, on him. "Good, Zachariah says, seemingly satisfied with Sam's reaction. "I am glad that you two came to us; I am sure you won't regret letting us handle your alliances."

Oh, they probably will. But at least the company is honest. They're selling alliances, not love. Arranged matings and marriages with mutual benefits.

Sam is strangely all right with it. Knowing that Adam isn't forced to mate for money is reward enough. That, and the dowries that make Dean able to purchase land and houses for their new pack. It's a better beginning than they could hope for, except of course that they'll both be saddled with unwanted mates, and in Sam's case, probably also unwanted pups. He'll be knotted and bred on his first night in heat if his alpha mate wishes it so, and Sam will choose wisely. He does not want pups, at least not yet. In time, maybe. Their little brother, barely eighteen, going through that... mating, forced breeding? No, this is still better. At least Sam won't feel guilty for the rest of his life for abandoning his brother. Leaving Adam to sell himself really isn't an option.

It takes time to read through the contracts and Zachariah, knowing that they are going to sign without any fuss, is very accommodating, explaining the agreement to them. It's evening before Anna takes over, pulling them both with her to another office that looks suspiciously like a high-end hairdresser's salon.

"No, Sam. Leave it!" The petite woman who's been styling Sam's hair swats at his hand. "You're messing it up! Try not to look like you've just come out of the woods from a hunt. Our clients aren't used to... they are refined. Most are from city packs, some are businessmen and -women who live sophisticated city lives, handling pack business for a remote pack. It won't do-"

"Refined? Nothing a mouthful of bloody, raw rabbit can't cure," Dean intervenes. "I'm sure my omega would like me a bit rough at the edges." He slides a hand through his artfully spiked hair, ruining the entire thing. He glares at the other hairdresser. "Leave it. My hair _and_ Sam's. We're not your Ken dolls." He's got that alpha tone going for him, and the hairdressers back off. 

"Please, Alpha? We're doing our jobs. You wouldn't want the clients to reject you. They're used to the best, and some of them are really picky." The hairdresser looks away, the slightest hint of a bared throat.

"Enough," Dean says in a tone that tolerates no contradiction. As much as he refuses to rule Sam, he never has the same problem with other weres. The two betas flinch at the command and obeys. "We're ready," Dean says with conviction and gets up from the fancy chrome-and-leather chair he's been sitting in.

"Fuck." Sam looks at his big brother, mouth half-open in surprise. "Dean!" The mirrors surrounding them show an infinite number of Deans: narrow hips in expensive suit pants, a tailored shirt that clings to Dean's broad shoulders, accentuating the perfect build and the slim waist. The country boy has left home, and before Sam stands a powerful, beautiful alpha in his prime. "Damn, if you weren't my brother," Sam groans. "no, fuck, I don't care, I'd still-" He gets a grip, suppressing his instinctive need to submit to this utterly perfect alpha in front of him.

Dean sends him a cheeky grin. "The price just went up thirty percent. You can't afford me."

"Dude!" Sam shakes his head and stands as well. It earns him an appraising look from Dean.

"And since we're talking about money, now there's a run for them." Dean nods in the general direction of the mirror, indicating that Sam should take a look. One of the stylists taps him on the shoulder, holding up a jacket. Sam gets a brief glance at the label. Armani. He knows that one. It translates 'money'. The jacket slides in place like a second skin and Sam looks. And looks again. 

Okay, the hair he's seen, obviously. But the suit and the jacket and the soft colors of the shirt that make the golden flecks in his eyes stand out so beautifully? "Maybe jeans isn't all that, anyway," Sam ponders, studying the man in the mirror. It does look like him, and then not. He looks stylish, so different from his usual relaxed self. He didn't know he could look this good.

Dean sends Sam yet another appreciative grin, then disappears into the back of the room, perhaps to collect their old clothes. 

Sam finally tears his gaze away from his own image in the mirror when a door slams behind them and someone whistles.

"Well, hello there, handsome!"

Before Sam gets to reply, the stylists go all fidgety and nervous. "Please! You can't come in here, sir! You know it's not allowed. Discretion-"

Sam turns, staring at a small guy, all confident and cheeky as he walks towards them. 

"Yeah, yeah. Calm down, girls. Zach's going to take it out on me, and I can handle him. Had to come see his latest purchase, and oh boy, is he worth a look? Or five."

"Gabriel, please?" one of the stylists attempts. "You're still an applicant for a mate. Technically-"

The small guy sends the hairdresser a wicked smile, then directs his attention to Sam once more. "Technically it's my bossy fool of a big brother who put me on the list. He thinks I'm going to take a mate because he is able to send me a constant stream of suggestions. Bully for him; it's not gonna happen. He knows very well that the type I want rarely is on the market, so it's a waste of time. But if it rocks his boat..."

The newcomer lets his eyes slide down Sam's body and Sam feels naked and exposed by the hungry way that the guy looks at him. Alphas come in all sorts of sizes, and if this little alpha's dominance is as great as his ego, Sam really doesn't want to deal with it. Fighting the urge to take a step back, Sam wants to put distance, however small, between him and the intruder, but he tries not to misbehave. Not just yet.

The guy, Gabriel, rudely breathes in Sam's scent. "What? You're... not alpha?" Gabriel's eyebrows make questioning, surprised arches on his brow as he stares at Sam. "But the smell..."

Sam ignores the fumes of shampoo and conditioner and cologne and takes a whiff, not caring that so obviously is out of line. If it doesn't bother Gabriel, it doesn't bother him."Omega?" His eyes fly wide open. "You too?"

"Oh, kiddo, we're going to have so much fun, the two of us." Gabriel's grin is wolfish and all sorts of wicked. "Yeah, I'm omega. We have to stick together, then, fighting the big bad alphas." Gabriel looks positively elated at the thought. "You in?" Gabriel steps over to Sam in front of the mirrors. The little guy's eyes are full of mirth and mischief as he holds out his hand. 

Sam is about to reply when he notices Dean, coming back into the salon. Sam's about to say something when he realizes that Dean is stunned, frozen to a spot a few feet from the entrance, duffel slung over his shoulder, another hovering half way between the spot on the floor on which Dean might have intended to put it down. His eyes are wide, his mouth slightly open, as if he's taking in a pleasant scent, drinking it in as if it's the best thing in the world. Sam stops in mid-motion, about to walk over to him and ask him what's wrong. Then it hits him.

That earth-shaking moment that most weres hope will happen to them might just have happened to his big brother. 

"Gabriel." Sam looks at his new friend, smiling.

Gabriel cocks an eyebrow questioningly, clearly sensing the seriousness in Sam's one word. "Yes?" He frowns, then breathes in, realizing the force of the new scent. Dean's scent. It might have been what lured him into the salon in the first place, the faint whiff of an unknown alpha.

"I guess you haven't yet met my brother Dean? _He's_ an alpha." Sam points over Gabriel's shoulder, nodding in Dean's direction. Dean has finally managed to put down the bag.

Turning in the direction that Sam points, Gabriel smirks, as if Sam has offered him yet another toy to play with. "No, I-" Gabriel, too, stops as if he's been hit by lightning. "Fuck." Gabriel's cheeky grin fades and is replaced by an expression of awe and need. "Alpha indeed!"

"Where and when?" is all Dean says, obviously as smitten as Gabriel. He can't tear his eyes away from the guy that he's known for all of ten seconds. He stares at him hungrily without as much as an apologetic shrug for the ferocious hunger he elicits.

"My place. I'll handle the paperwork and your fee with Zach tomorrow. All right with you?" Gabriel steps up to Dean, looking at him as if he's the second coming of Christ, but possibly with quite another agenda than Platonic worship in mind.

"Fuck, yeah. I'm Dean, by the way."

"And I'm horny," Gabriel smirks." Let's ride, cowboy. You like beer? We can hit a bar on the way back to my place. You know... a quickie and a drink before we get to the really interesting stuff?"

Dean controls himself long enough to mouth a "Sorry, I like him!" in Sam's direction before he grabs Gabriel's arm and more or less carries him out of the room, Gabriel being a very willing victim, seeing how he's groping Dean's ass. 

"The hell?" is all Sam manages and slides down in the chair next to him. He throws his hands up in defeat, laughing almost bitterly. "Bond mates? Like that?" He looks at the hairdressers and stylists who all look as stunned as Sam feels. "So much for fighting biology and instinct! Good work, Dean."

One of the hairdressers finally gets a grip and attempts an explanation. "Gabriel. Not the run of the mill customer. Zachariah's cousin. We... we thought he was just in the Alliance as a joke or to avoid Michael — that's his brother — bitching at him for not taking a mate. He's been pestering us and the clients for ages, Gabriel has."

"I really thought he used it as an excuse to hang around to check out the goods," one of the others adds. "They've been trying to make him take an alpha for years, Zachariah and Michael, both. Obviously neither had any luck getting him there."

"Make him? And he didn't want to?" Sam is baffled. He knows that he's lucky to have Dean, lucky that the Hunter pack isn't forcing its omegas to mate. But to downright ignore an order from the pack alpha? True, Sam had thought Gabriel was alpha until the smell of omega hit him. Perhaps it wasn't coincidence that made Dean and Gabriel react so intensely to each other. Gabriel is clearly not taking anything lying down and that is exactly how Dean wants it.

"Nope. Nobody tells Gabriel what to do, not if they don't wanna be on the really unpleasant end of some kind of underhanded and very mean revenge prank. I hope your brother is as strong as he looks, because he's going to have his hands full." Sam's hairdresser doesn't exactly look as if she approves of Gabriel's behavior. She shakes her head. "Gabriel should've been an alpha — he surely acts like one. But perhaps being knotted and bred by a strong alpha will remedy that."

"Sure. Because getting the knot erases your ability to think for yourself," Sam snaps. "Of course Dean will keep him pregnant and barefoot and not too far from the kitchen. Right." 

Jeez, he's so tired of that tripe. It's instinct, yeah, but nothing but that. He smiles to erase the rudeness of his comment. He doesn't apologize because he doesn't think he has anything to apologize for. Instead he tilts his head questioningly. "You think they really... that they are bond mates? Way to cramp my style," Sam says. "Dean's never going to let me hear the end of it if I don't bond as well." Sam can't wrap his mind around it. It's typical. Dean walks into a bar and all the girls and every omega with a pulse are instantly interested, Sam's used to that. But this? A few hours and Dean has an omega bondmate who, apart from looking gorgeous, also is cheeky, bossy and exactly what Dean would like if he could afford the pick himself. 

Life's so unfair.


	2. Beasts Enough for a Burnt Offering

As it turns out, life is more unfair that Sam expected. The stylists are done with him, and Anna—perfect, expensive Anna—comes to fetch him for his first appointment. Clearly, the Alliance works fast. Anna's expression, however, expertly hidden behind a professional 500 Watt smile as it is, indicates that Dean's sudden bonding isn't exactly to the Alliance's liking. Still, Sam is becoming a bit nervous about meeting his first potential mate and he'd much rather think about his big brother and the pleasant destiny that awaits him, despite the Alliance's thinly veiled disapproval. 

It really is a match made in heaven, Sam's sure. Gabriel certainly isn't an obedient little omega, ready to play housewife for Dean. Not that Dean would be interested in a simpering, weak omega. Gabriel, from what Sam understands, likes beer, porn and independence. Gabriel is everything Dean wants. Sam can't help feeling a little envious. Sam has put his own expectations on a low simmer. He doesn't expect anything, really; he only hopes that the Alliance are good at what they do. A bondmate is not in the cards; he'll be happy if he gets a decent mate who's not bossing him around too much.

Anna click-clacks down the marble-tiled hall on high heels, her perfect ass wiggling in front of him. It leaves him cold. Long legs and stilettos are not really what Sam is looking for. While walking, Anna leafs through a small folder, stopping for a moment to pull out a piece of paper. 

"Your appointment for tonight," she says, handing him the print-out. "Amelia Richardson. Veterinarian, Twenty-nine. Former Miss Kansas. Widow. Husband Don was killed in a fight between packs, and Ms Richardson is eager to leave her former mate's pack and join another."

Sam looks at the picture and the resume attached to it. A woman? Not what Sam would prefer, but he can do it. Ms Amelia Richardson is clearly well-educated. And pretty. Intelligent, obviously, since she's gone through college and vet school. She would like to join their pack, eagerly even, or so the file says. On paper, she looks good.

"In here." Anna stops in front of a closed door. The brass handle is polished and shiny like the dark walnut of the door. "We'll be monitoring the room for your safety. And I'll be in there with you, discreetly, of course." Anna shrugs, as if to apologize. "Not all alphas are equally understanding when an omega is handed to them on a platter. Some think that because they have put in a bid, they have carte blanche to take liberties. Incredible that people in positions of power and fortune aren't always able to understand a one-syllable word like _no_."

Sam is about to say something to stop Anna's lecture. His determination is fading. Sam doesn't want a female alpha, not even one who appears to be as perfect for him as this one, apart from the no-knot part. He wants to point out to Anna that it is in his contract. The deal is male mates only. Then he's ushered into the lounge, Anna's hand a relentless pressure on his back. She leaves him without a word to go sit in a chair in the far end of the room.

The small room is fitted with a pair of comfortable chairs and a love seat upholstered in moss green velvet. The alpha sits primly in one of the chairs, assessing him as he enters. She doesn't do him the courtesy to stand. Her right hand fingers are playing with the seam on the back of the green brocade chair and her pale skin looks even paler against the dark green.

Ms Richardson _is_ pretty, but there are hard, tense lines around her eyes and mouth. She's clearly not as fragile as she might appear at a first glance. This alpha's sharp, understated dominance is so different from Dean's and Bobby's that it makes Sam uncomfortable. She's like a razor blade hiding in a drawer, pain hidden underneath soft lingerie, and Sam does not want to cut himself on her.

"Sam Winchester? A pleasure," Ms Richardson says, holding out her hand, forcing him by a glare to take her hand in his. The touch is warm and soft, not at all sharp and cold. 

Sam takes a deep breath, bracing himself to stand against the alpha. He can smell her desire for him, not sexual, something else that he cannot point out, not even with his honed hunter senses. She smells bitter, as if she's filled with regret and sadness. Sam takes a quick decision, one he's sure that _he_ won't regret. It's the only thing he can do; his body is almost vibrating with this uncomfortable, off sensation. "I'm sorry, Ms Richardson, but I'll have to decline." He takes yet another deep breath, continuing his speech before the alpha can interrupt him. The refusal slips over his lips far too easily, hopefully not revealing how uncomfortable he is. "There has been a misunderstanding. I'm... I'm flattered, but I asked for a male alpha. I'm gay." It's not true entirely. Sam likes some women. But this one? She's not for him.

The lines around Amelia Richardson's mouth become even more tense. "Is that your pack alpha's orders, omega? That you are to say no to female alphas? Or is he so irresponsible that he's allowing you the luxury of choice? You are aware that you are refusing an offer that you are unlikely to have again? Not all omegas are lucky enough to be allowed to impregnate their female alpha. You should be on your knees, thanking me for my generosity."

"No." Sam is getting angry; the woman speaks to him as if he's a slightly unintelligent twelve year old kid. He doesn't like it. He's omega, not a child, although neither justifies being spoken to like that."My pack alpha would never demand of me that I should accept a mate just for the sake of a mate." He straightens up, his eyes narrowing. "My answer is no."

Behind Sam Anna gasps. Sam doesn't care that he isn't exactly polite. The Alliance knows he is a diamond in the rough, not refined or gentlemanly or anything like that. He's a hunter and if that isn't good enough, there isn't anything Sam can do about it. It's who he is, and he won't change that. He's selling himself into a bond, true. But no amount of money can make him take this foul-smelling alpha, no matter how pretty and smart she is.

Sam remembers his manners, what little his dad taught him. "Ms Richardson." He nods politely and turns on his heel, ignoring the instincts that scream at him to submit, to kneel in front of the alpha. He walks out the door, letting out a sigh of relief as Anna's hard heels tap their sharp tick-tock against the marble floor.

"What the hell was that about?" Anna's voice is as tense as the lines around Amelia Richardson's thin lips. "Are you mad? Isn't enough that I have to deal with your insane alpha brother and his batshit crazy accidental bond-mate? Couldn't at least one of you be on this side of normal?" She stamps her foot angrily, as if it'd help.

Sam feels a certain amount of satisfaction that he made perfect Anna crack. It's not that he enjoys messing with her, but Ms Richardson just rubbed him the wrong way and he can't imagine anything that could make him change his mind about her. Sam could deal with her if it had been a brief affair, but he will not compromise, not when he has to spend the rest of his life with the mate he chooses. In that regard, Sam is not for sale. There has to be _more_ to it than money and an eligible alpha, not that Sam can afford to be genuinely picky. 

"She was as far from being my true bondmate as anyone could possibly be," he says quietly. Anna hasn't done him any harm, and Sam knows that he isn't exactly acting like the pliant omega society expects him to be. "I _did_ ask for a male alpha." He doesn't add that the male mate is merely a preference; he could do it if he really had to, if the female alpha had been more to his tastes. He's had girls before her. But since there's a choice, he'd rather let Ms Richardson go, so that he can have the male mate he prefers. It's after all what he's moaning for when he's in heat - a knot. But it better be on a decent alpha. 

He walks a bit slower, letting Anna catch up with him. "I'm sorry, Anna, but I really couldn't take her. Not as my lifemate. I didn't mean to be impolite, but she made my hackles..."

Anna sniggers. "It's okay. She's awf-" She looks up at Sam, her eyes shining with glee. "Don't tell Zachariah I almost said that."

Sam looks at her questioningly. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"She really is such a- a-." Anna shuts her mouth, not wanting to say the word, demeaning herself in the process. "I don't like her."

Sam laughs. "I didn't think you were supposed to tell me anything about the clients?" He doesn't think that Amelia Richardson is a bitch; it's never pleasant to be turned down, but maybe Anna hadn't liked the competition. Anna is way above Miss Texas-standard herself, so she shouldn't worry. As for Anna? If she'd been an alpha in need of an omega, Sam would have said yes without thinking twice.

"Never said that." Anna snorts. "And I never told you, either, that your next suitor is quite the catch: male, rich, charming. Somewhat older than you. In his prime, though." She suddenly stares at nothing, a dreamy expression on her face.

"Jealous?" Sam jokes, winking at Anna. The expression, however, tells him that, yes, she might be envious, just a little, despite being mated to her own alpha-omega couple.

"You'd be too. Just wait and see," she says, her prim attitude thawing so fast that Sam would be standing in a pool of water, had she been a snowman. "I shouldn't tell you this. He's related to Gabriel, but they were never on the best of terms, so it's a bit of a risk, putting them in the same pack. This one... he could be trouble, but-" Anna wraps her arm around Sam's conspiratorially, "-he is _gorgeous_. If it's knotting you want... Oh, dear."

"Seriously?" Sam doesn't know what to say. It sounds promising. Sounds almost too good to be true. "What's the snag?"

"He might have caused, let's say, major disturbances in the Nadanos pack. Raphael and Michael... our family group... don't live together with his part of the pack any longer. It's not possible. Rumor has it that it was some jealousy drama between them that started it ages ago, but then again, you know how rumors go around between packs. My mates refuse to talk about it, so I actually don't know for sure."

"Tearing up a pack?" Sam is stunned. That is a serious crime and being asked to leave is a similarly serious punishment. "For love, or for power?"

"Family. Again, that's what the rumor says," Anna repeats. "We tend to stay away from him, though. He's... well, neither of my mates are easy to live with. But this one... he might be worth the hassle, despite those issues. If he can get along with Gabriel." Anna stops and puts her other hand on Sam's arm. "Sam, promise me that you won't act this rashly this time. Not because we're handling your case, not because we want you out of here as soon as possible. You can refuse once more, and then you're stuck with what Zachariah sends you. Even if this new guy seems wrong, give it a chance. You know... go on a couple of dates, see him a few times before you decide. Zachariah tends to get spiteful and you'd not want him to give you to someone who doesn't care that you're going to be miserable. There are alphas enough out there who'd purchase you just to have you as their arm candy, not because they care for _you_."

They step into the hall. Anna stops again, not too eager to go back to her desk. 

"Why are you telling me this?" Sam frowns; he's suspicious. Anna is violating company policy for him and Sam wants to know why. 

Anna's shoulders fall. "I'm not telling you _everything_. I can't. I've said too much already. But it's not easy to be in your shoes." She looks up at him, her pretty face compassionate. "I know why you're selling. Zachariah told me. About your brother, I mean."

Sam can see that there's more, as if unspoken words hover between them. "Yeah?" He isn't surprised that she knows; Anna probably knows everything that goes on here.

"This is why," she finally says. "I refused my first two offers. I had to take the third. I learned to love them both. Not everybody is as lucky. Michael and Raphael fight all the time, amongst themselves, with others. I suppose they are both horrible, to be honest, but they're very good to me. We became lovemates eventually, although it took time to fall in love with them. Raphael... I think he hated me for the first few years we were together. They took me because of tradition, and I took them because I was out of options. I don't want it to be like that for you. You... you're a good person, Sam."

"Don't pity me," Sam says. "It's my choice." He reaches for her, squeezing her arm. "But... thanks for telling me. I'll take the advice; it's sound and you're right — I did act recklessly, refusing Ms Richardson so soon. Maybe too soon. I won't make that mistake again."

"I don't pity you," she says. "I'm trying to help you."

Anna sends him back to the hotel, demanding that he comes back the next morning so that they can make him ready for his lunch date with this still nameless alpha that the Alliance has picked out for him on a long list of high-paying suitors. At least the man's a man, and not uneasy on the eye if Anna's right. Rich and charming, too. Sam has yet to question Anna's impeccable taste.

Sam goes to bed alone. The twin bed next to his remains empty. Dean's probably not showing up until he has to; not only is he with his bondmate, but Gabriel offered beer, bars and a quick fuck up against the wall—everything that Dean needs for a great evening. Flopping down on the remarkably soft bed, Sam buries himself in the lavender-smelling sheets. He pushes the pillows up against the headboard and turns on his phone, just in case. 

The phone beeps, three unread messages. One is from Anna, reminding him of tomorrow's appointment—as if he'd forget. The other two are from Dean, surprisingly. Sam taps the oldest. It's just a few words. _Bondmates, dude! 4real!_ is all it says. Sam laughs, happy for his brother. Dean hasn't had an easy life, neither of them have, and Gabriel is a breath of fresh air and hope. For both of them. Gabriel's going to be their pack omega, Dean's second in command if traditions are to be taken into account. Anyway, Sam likes his new pack brother, despite having seen little of him. 

What Sam likes most is that Gabriel might make Dean truly happy.

The next message proves that Gabriel certainly is trying. Sam looks for a second at the photo. "Seriously?" he growls, throwing the phone on the bed, wiping his hand on the cover. He takes the phone again, between two fingers, feeling slightly dirty. Gabriel's neck is kiss-marked with love-bites and there's a bleeding wound where Dean has put his mating bite. Gabriel's eyes are golden and shining with the urge for more: more mating, more Dean. 

The jealousy surges through Sam like a hurricane, wrecking everything on its way. "Dammit," he hisses, angry and needy, sad and jealous, all at the same time. He sits up, his arms wrapped around his knees. He's on the verge of crying as anger and loss unite to attack his heart. He has lost Dean; he is no longer Sam's, not fully. But Dean's happy smile is what gets to Sam the most. He is never going to have this kind of love, this perfect rapport with another man. Sam knows that had Dean not been his brother, they'd mated long ago, but they are brothers and it has never been a real possibility, although matings between brothers are not unheard of, mostly in the old, traditional packs. It's about blood lines and purity. Like the Nadanos pack, it seems. Unfortunately, at least in that regard, the Hunter pack doesn't do _tradition_.

It doesn't hurt less, though, for Dean is still his brother, only Sam has to share him with this golden-eyed little omega. For a few seconds, Sam _hates_ Gabriel with a deep intensity, but it passes, mainly because it is not very constructive to be angry at someone who has done nothing to Sam. Also, Gabriel truly seems like a great guy and Sam honestly likes him. All in all, Sam should be content: Dean and he have taken a big step towards fulfilling their biggest wish. With the money Gabriel pays for Dean's contract, they have enough to pay Adam's creditors, and they'll have more than enough for houses and land for their small pack.

With the money Gabriel is bringing into the pack, together with the amount that Dean receives, the new Winchester pack is not just wealthy, they're rich. Sam doesn't have to mate now. However, the fee for breaking the signed contract will be a setback that they cannot afford. Although Dean's mating is as far from a sacrifice that a bought mating can possibly be, Sam still wants to keep to his promise to Adam and Dean. He _will_ give himself up to a mate. If nothing else, it will consolidate their pack. Dean will be close to untouchable, at least when it comes to money. Unless he is challenged directly in open combat, according to old pack law, Dean's rule is safe. Money do talk and the money they've got by now... they make a very heavy argument. 

It wouldn't be fair to Dean to refuse a mating, even if Sam could convince Zachariah to release him without paying the Alliance their fee. It was Sam's idea in the first place, and he still wants to go through with it; it's a stupid sense of honor. He wants to do right, even thought he is never going to have what Dean and Gabriel have. Sam sighs deeply. It's probably better not to let envy into the equation: it's as likely as two Tuesdays in one week for Sam to find a true bondmate in this lottery of money and alphas. Sam knows he's not going to be as lucky as Gabriel. A nice, friendly alpha... that's all he'll allow himself to hope for.

Sam made his bed and he's ready to lie in it, but he's not ready, not yet, to actually like it. 

It takes time to fall asleep, one hand curled around the phone, as if it's possible to keep the same close and constant connection to Dean that he always had. 

When morning comes, there is still no Dean, but Sam has slept through the phone's delivery of several texts which announce that Dean most certainly is happily and very thoroughly mated with Gabriel. 

Thank God that there aren't more pictures.

Sam gets up, feeling lonely. He feels as if he's been robbed of something precious. He is slightly mopey and orders just about everything that room-service delivers, just out of spite. The Alliance is paying. He goes to shower, wrapping a towel around his hips when he leaves it, dripping wet. At least he's almost decent when it knocks on the door. He's about to open it when Dean bursts in.

"What are you doing? Have you mated?" Dean looks over Sam's shoulder into the bedroom, intensely curios.

"Showering, Dean, if you must know." Sam snorts, annoyed. "And we're not all as lucky as to meet our bond-mate before the first scheduled date." Sam, too, looks over Dean's shoulder, into the corridor. "Where is he, by the way? I thought you were more or less attached by the knot by now."

"Speaking with Zachariah." Dean takes a few fast steps towards the dining table and stops, groaning. "Ow. Adventurous omegas are... adventurous." Dean sits down very, very carefully.

Sam doesn't know whether to laugh or to scrub his brain with bleach. "Too much info, man."

"Sorry." Dean sends him the puppy eyes.

Sam can't stay angry with him for long. "So... you're mated."

"Oh yeah. Several times and in various very interesting ways. Hence the, erm-" Dean winces, seemingly happy at the thought of what Gabriel has done to him. Maybe Dean has truly met his match. "Gabe's been properly knotted, though. Before..." Dean's lips curl upwards, then into a wide grin. "He's bossy. And eager. But the mating bite is in place, so he's mine. And I'm his." Dean looks so boyishly happy that Sam can only join in, laughing just _because_. He is still a bit jealous, but Dean deserves the happiness he's got.

"There's coffee in a minute," Sam says, hoping to steer the conversation very far away from Gabriel and knotting and Dean's sore ass. There's only so much Sam can take. "I called room service." 

"God, yes, please!" Dean sounds like he's in the process of going down with the Titanic and someone just threw him a life vest. "I need it! And food? Lots? Or I won't survive tonight if he's at it like he-"

"Dean!" Sam knows he sounds desperate. "Could we just not." Sam drags out some random clothes from the dresser, pulling on jeans and his favorite t-shirt. They're going to make him wear something expensive and uncomfortable anyway, so why bother? 

"Sorry," Dean says. "Damn, I keep saying that. But, Sam! Bondmates!" Dean lights up again, obviously elated by the thought that his wild single life is over. There will be no one else for him but Gabriel. It's truly odd to see that kind of personality change in his brother. Although Sam knows what a bonding does, it's weird to see it happen in front of him. Not that Dean's going to stop indulging in beer, sex and porn, now he's just going to indulge with Gabriel, so perhaps it's not a personality change at all. Maybe Gabriel was there, just waiting to happen. Sam has rarely seen two people better suited for each other. He supposes that if they'd been humans and not weres it'd had been love at first sight.

Sam still doesn't want to think about love too much. He'll never know true love. 

Breakfast arrives and both Sam and Dean indulge in butter-smeared pancakes, in bacon and eggs and sausages and salad. Dean even eats a whole tomato, claiming it's a part of his new and improved life-style. Which would be so much more convincing if he hadn't taken a third helping of pancakes right after. Being bonded doesn't seem to affect Dean that much, despite how it changes his entire life. He is still Dean. Unabashed. 

"You don't... you don't miss him? Gabriel?" Sam asks, wondering whether it's merely old wives' tales when they speak of the longing of bondmates. Supposedly it includes an irrepressible need to touch and mate and be together. Sam wraps half a pancake around his fork and smothers it with syrup before he eats is. The taste of ripe raspberries is delicious.

"Sure I do. But I'm not an infatuated fool, and he's not going anywhere. I'll see him later." Dean shrugs, but there's a blush on his cheeks and a glint in his eyes that reveal that he's not quite as relaxed as he's pretending to be. "And I have responsibilities to my brother. We have our first real pack member in the Winchester pack, and you and me, Sammy, we're in it together, like we've always been. Gabe... he's my omega and he's officially my second in command, but you're still going to be right hand man, my enforcer." Dean points at Sam with his knife, as if to underline the seriousness of his words.

"But Gabriel-"

"Gabriel couldn't care less. He's not into pack politics, he just wants a family of his own and some peace and quiet and gay bars and ale. I don't mean that he's going to be my little housewife, that's not it." Dean barks out a laughter. "I'd like to see anyone try. Making Gabriel do something he doesn't want? Keeping him away from his beer and his porn? Good luck with that."

"You have the power to order him," Sam argues. "He's your omega."

"For an omega who has never been ordered to do anything, you're remarkably interested in Gabriel being bossed around. What makes you think I'd survive if I tried?"

"That bad?" 

"That good. I'd hate to have a mate who couldn't stand up for himself. You know I'd hate it. Being bondmates is not a war. It's a cooperation. Gabriel understands that. He's perfect."

"And now you're all grown up. Aw. You're adorable," Sam teases. "Funny how you've changed your priorities overnight. I mean, Gabe doesn't fit your usual preference: tits, one night, no last name."

"Shut your cakehole, you're talking about my mate," Dean growls, blushing even more. He waves a hand at Sam dismissively. "He suits me just fine. As I said, he's adventurous. Doubt I'm missing out on anything, you know, ditching the one-night stands. Seriously, I've never had better." Dean sighs, as if he's recalling one or two of the _adventures_ before he steers the conversation into more shallow waters. "Isn't it time that you're off to fetch your alpha? You know, dressing up all girly to lure him into your sweet-smelling honey trap."

Sam makes a gagging sound. "Have you and Gabe been at it with the romance novels? And here I thought you were having steamy mating sex all night, and all you did was read to each other?" Sam does look at the clock. He has to go, seeing that it's clearly impossible to dress like a normal person to meet up with a mate. He gulps down the rest of his coffee, half-way out of his chair. 

Dean gets up, too, slower. "Sam?" Dean's hand weighs down on Sam's arm, warm and comforting.

Sam stops. It's a tone he's rarely heard from Dean. He's serious, worried. He squints at Dean suspiciously, trying to suss out what makes Dean act like that. Maybe it's his newly created pack alpha status, maybe it's just brotherly care.

"You okay? I mean, me bonding with Gabriel? You're okay with... you're still going to take a mate that might not be exactly what you want." Dean presses his lips together, as if he wants to say more but can't.

Sam nods. He's touched by the warmth and care that emanates in waves from Dean. He's going to be the best pack alpha ever. He is already. Sam's determined to stick with his initial plan. Even if it's not necessary for him to mate for the sake of their younger brother, he'll still do it to consolidate their pack. Money and a yet another strong and rich alpha added to their small pack? It's going to get Dean very far in terms of power. They'll have pack member prospects coming to them in no time, applying for a place in their pack. "A were's gotta do what a were's gotta do," Sam jokes. "I might not be as lucky as you, Dean, but I still have two more alphas to choose from. I'll be fine."

"Yeah, no. Don't do it for me," Dean says quietly, pulling Sam into a one-armed hug. "We've gotten out of worse, and we have Gabriel now. He'll help." Dean pulls back, looking Sam in the eye. "Promise me, Sammy! If you truly can't take the mate they offer, we'll come save you."

"Thanks," Sam says quietly, knowing that there is no way out, not without ruining the three of them and Adam too, which defies the entire idea of mating for money. Now Adam will be free, and Dean has his bond-mate and that might be worth it all. Sam would die for Dean, and this is not a destiny worse than death. "I might not get what you have, but I'm sure the Alliance has taken care to choose someone more appropriate this time. They don't want me or my intended to be unhappy." Sending Dean a smile that is somewhat more brave than he feels, Sam adds, "Bad for business, remember?"

Their hotel is close to the Alliance's office. It takes Sam only a few minutes before he's back at the salon, the stylists swarming around him like bees around a honey jar. It's what he is, he supposes, honey. Expensive honey. They dress him in tight jeans and a white shirt, flimsy and soft, very different from yesterday's sinister Armani. The Sam in the mirror is different from the Sam of yesterday. Sam suspects that maybe the buyers — his suitors, to use a more diplomatic term — are asked beforehand about the type of clothes they prefer. Sam's not sure he likes it. Well, he liked the Armani because it covered him up better; the shirt shows off what he has and makes him look sexy. No, he doesn't like it. He's selling, but he's not a rent boy, not that he'd know how that feels, but he certainly is flashing the goods the way he's dressed.

He's still uncomfortable when he follows Anna to the elevator. Her expensive perfume hovers in the air as he steps in. They are standing a bit too close in the narrow coach. "I feel like a paper doll," he tells her, attempting to close the shirt's open buttons. 

"Ah-ah!" Anna bats his hand away. "You look gorgeous," she tells him, turning to press _21_ on the elevator's control panel. She looks at him in the mirror in front of them, her eyes appreciative. "You shouldn't hide. Lucifer likes sexy."

"Lucifer? That's his _name_? Very reassuring! At least I'm not meeting him on Friday the 13th or something."

"Yeah, like that. Stay positive," Anna laughs. "I think you'll like him. And he'll definitely like you. He has eyes."

That Sam would much prefer that the man has a brain is not up for debate. He shuts his mouth; there is no reason to discuss it —neither the name of his suitor, nor the fact that Sam feels dressed like a porn star. Beggars can't be choosers, but Sam would prefer a mate who appreciates his intelligence before his abs. He's not a sex-hungry little omega in heat, willing to roll over for any hot alpha who wants his body. Okay, so he _is_ sex-hungry when he's in heat, but no more than the average omega, and he can handle it. He won't get on his back for a horny alpha just because he likes sex. Sam would still like a mate who'd want to be with him during the rest of the year when he's not in heat, thank you very much.

"It's a different floor. Not the same room as yesterday. Any particular reason?" Sam inquires. So sue him, he's curious — it's a habit. He wonders whether the change of location is to avoid a flashback to yesterday's unpleasant meeting.

"Lucifer likes the top floor suites."

"So he's a- a- regular?" Sam recalls how Gabriel had been a recurring customer, obviously used to coming and going as he pleased. 

"Zachariah is sucking up to him. Lucifer's very particular about what he wants. Men, meeting places... whatever suits his fancy, and Zachariah provides. I think that you might be the first omega who's been close to meeting his frankly outrageous demands." Anna looks at the file Sam's holding. "You did read the file, right?"

Yeah, Sam did, but as it doesn't say much about how the client has picked out his omega of choice, Sam would like to know more about this Lucifer, slightly worried that he's walking into yet another meeting more or less blindsided. "You all seem to know this guy well." Sam pauses as the elevator pings, and the doors slide open with a soft hiss. "I know you're not allowed to tell, but since you, you know, yesterday- you, erm... about Ms Richardson, too." Anna hadn't cared to hide how much she disliked Amelia Richardson. Sam hopes for an openness encore.

"Not until after you've met Lucifer. I've said too much already, and I need — we need — our omegas to meet their potential spouses with an open mind."

"Or an open hole," Sam adds, managing to keep a straight face as Anna coughs and chokes on something between an outraged outburst and a laughter. 

Anna steps out of the elevator, waiting for Sam to join her, discreetly wiping away the tears of laughter with a neatly embroidered handkerchief. "We're a mating agency, not a brothel, Winchester!" She snorts, puts her handkerchief back into the small bag she's carrying before she looks at Sam, the laughter still shining in her eyes. The professionalism slides off her. "I promise. After. I'll tell you more, after. But you need to keep your mouth shut, or we'll both get in trouble. Zachariah's a bitch when he's angry. The guy's petty."

Sam holds up his hand is if to swear an oath. "On my brother's car. And that's saying something," he adds. "Dean's more in love with that car than with his new boytoy. And why are you making exceptions? I'm not the hot new alpha in town."

Anna laughs. She's great when she stops being all prim and proper. "Not alpha, no. But hot? Definitely. And I'm sure your price will go up when Lucifer has seen you. He'll not let go of something as special as you. He's going to outbid anyone who is challenging his hold. The bidding might have ceased, but you don't know him."

Not really reassuring. Sam _knows_ he's selling, but he's not as such an asset to purchase, and if this Lucifer thinks that he is, Sam definitely is willing to educate the man. "I'm not for sale. I still have a say. He is bidding for the right to go on dates with me, right? And only if the Alliance deciedes it's a good fit."

"And I'm rather sure that you'll say yes to Lucifer, Sam. He's everything you'd wish for." Anna raises a hand as if she has said too much. She has, Sam's not in doubt. Far too much. "But see for yourself, sweetheart." She waves him forward as she opens the door to whatever room it is that Lucifer has chosen. "In you go."

Anna is right. Of course she is. 

Lucifer is not only likable. He's _gorgeous_. Sam stops right inside the door, one hundred percent sure that his expression is an exact copy of the one Dean wore yesterday. 

It can't be. It _can't_!

He stares open-mouthed, jaw hanging in an expression of dumbfounded confusion, at the tall man sprawling in a chair, hair messy and smile wide, as he, too, makes an expression to mirror Sam's.

Lucifer gets up, not a word spoken until he is standing in front of Sam, exuding such alpha power that Sam can hardly stand. "Mine," is all he says before he pulls Sam closer, one arm around his waist, a hand cupping Sam's cheek. "Mate."

Sam swallows. The world is tilting. He can barely keep from throwing himself at Lucifer, his entire body shaking with need. Ever so slowly Sam reciprocates, Anna forgotten, as he slides an arm around Lucifer's back. He reaches out, hesitates, then goes along with the irrepressible urge to touch and he buries his fingers in Lucifer's hair. He doesn't know what to say. "This is... we're- we're bondmates?"

"Yeah. The lightning _does_ strike the same place twice, it seems," Lucifer chuckles. "Heard it happened to your brother yesterday. Guess we're just lucky." 

Lucifer smiles. The kind smile and the gentle blue eyes make Sam go weak again. He manages to get a hold of himself by holding on to Lucifer, mostly because he feels as if he never wants to let go. Behind him a soft click that he barely registers tells him that Anna has left.

"So, really? We're..." Sam knows the answer already. 

"Mh-hm. As if you were in doubt. To me it feels as if I've been waiting for you all my life." Lucifer's thumb draws a slow circle on Sam's cheek. "I knew. Before I even saw you, I knew that you'd be mine." The words are as soft as the caress and they slither with Lucifer's damp breath over Sam's skin. It makes Sam shudder; urges he'd tried to suppress for too long surge through him. "I want you to say yes to me, to my offer," Lucifer murmurs. "I want to own you."

"I'm not a thing that can be owned," Sam protests, his discomfort at the words eased by Lucifer's warmth. "I'm a person."

"You're omega," Lucifer whispers, his lips so close to Sam's that they're almost kissing. "My omega. Nothing is more important than that. You're mine." He tilts Sam's head up with a finger, looking at Sam possessively. "I will _never_ hurt you, Sam. I'll cherish you and keep you safe. I'll protect you. I'll give you everything you want."

Sam's almost falling, right there and then. He's weak in the knees, he _wants_ so badly. He wants to submit to this gorgeous and powerful alpha. He wants to let himself be taken, wants to let Lucifer have him however he wants him. Dammit, he wants to accept Lucifer's offer without further thought, because they're bondmates and there _is_ no choice. He is omega, he is Lucifer's property and he wants, needs, to say yes to Lucifer. 

Then Sam fights to clear his mind for a second, fighting with everything he has the instincts that threaten to make him act so irrationally. Putting a hand on Lucifer's chest; a small barrier of flesh and bone against the onslaught of sensations and urges, Sam manages a weak, "Wait."

"Sam?" Lucifer's eyes are hurt. "Give in to me, please. You want it."

Sam frowns. "Oh, yeah. I do." He can't deny it. Lucifer is incredibly sexy, and his alpha scent is alluring beyond belief. "I want you with every fiber in my body. But I need you to stop." Sam is not testing his alpha, and then again he is.

"I'm sorry. It was too fast. Being bondmates is overwhelming. For me as well." Lucifer lets go and steps back to give Sam some breathing space. "I forget how rough we alphas can be, how sensitive omegas are to us and our powers."

Sam prevents his eyebrows from traveling up a floor or two. He's not a delicate flower and by God, doesn't Lucifer _know_ what he's been doing his entire life, slaying monsters to keep his pack secret and safe? Lucifer appears sensible enough. He'll come around. Zachariah has explained to Lucifer the conditions of the mating and Lucifer knows that he'll have to join Dean's pack. It's non-negotiable. Lucifer knows.

Before Sam says anything, Lucifer takes his hand and leads him towards the love seat. "Let's sit. Talk. Let me get you some coffee."

Meekly, too meekly to be truly comfortable with his reaction to Lucifer, Sam sits down while Lucifer pours them coffee. Being entirely caught up in Lucifer's presence and in their bonding, Sam has paid little attention to the surroundings. They're lush, luxurious, expensive, like everything else the Alliance offers. Soft carpet, soft colors, pale gray and dark brown accented with green. Forest colors, obviously chosen to create a homely atmosphere for the weres who live outside the cities. A small table has an assortment of soft drinks as well as the coffee that Lucifer is serving. 

Handing Sam a cup, Lucifer sits down next to him. "We have half an hour before Anna comes to pull us apart. So tell me about yourself, Sammy. Why did you come here? I mean, not today, but to the Alliance. Not that I'm complaining."

"It's _Sam_. And there isn't much to tell. I have a younger brother, Adam. His mother died and left him for their creditors to prey on. I'm not sitting idle and let that happen to my brother. He's pack, although we've seen him only a few times. He's my father's pup with another beta, outside our pack. Now I know that Adam can have the future he deserves, freedom to choose who he wants to mate with. It's a sacrifice, yes, but I will do anything for my brothers." Sam's need to protect his family is flaring. "Rather me than him. I can handle it, it's not that I'd counted on finding true love anyway, not with the way Dean and I live."

"And now you will want for nothing," Lucifer says. "Neither you, nor your brothers will ever need to worry again."

"You are not my pack alpha," Sam says. "You don't have to care for Adam."

"Oh, but I will. I suppose Anna has tattled already? With the fees they're charging here, you know already that I'm rich, very rich."

"Money has nothing to do with it." Sam raises his head defiantly. "Dean and I have what we need, and Dean will take care of us, as is his right as pack alpha."

"I thought money had everything to do with it. Money's what's freeing your younger brother from a destiny, supposedly worse than death." Lucifer laughs. "But if you say so, Sammy, I'll have to accept that."

Lucifer's hand on his thigh makes Sam forget for a moment that he doesn't like being called Sammy. That name is for Dean only. Lucifer's hand rests there, warm and safe, making flares of desire run through Sam's body. He takes a deep breath; a grave mistake, for Lucifer's scent does little for Sam's ability to think clearly. He leans forward, turning towards Lucifer, drawn in by power and pheromones, unable to stop himself from touching his bondmate. He can barely remember why he shouldn't throw himself at Lucifer in the first place, begging for their mating to be consummated right here, on the floor or on the couch.

Slowly Lucifer takes the cup that Sam still holds in one hand, dangerously close to dropping it, and puts it down on the coffee table next to his own. It is as if Lucifer is reading his mind, as if Lucifer has dug his claws into Sam in all ways that matter.

"Kiss me, omega," Lucifer demands, and Sam forgets himself in favor of the allure, of the temptation that is Lucifer. Lucifer's lips make this little curl at the corners that Sam finds absolutely fascinating, and he can't stop himself from moving in closer, wanting to taste and lick at the attractive, slightly arrogant mouth.

Lucifer is hot. His lips burn a scorching kiss on Sam's mouth, no holding back, only hard, demanding lips and a teasing tongue. Sam gasps, unprepared for the attack and he surrenders— how can he not when there are kisses to be had? Lucifer keeps his hands still, as if he senses Sam's slight reluctance, holding back as not to make Sam refuse him. Clutching at Lucifer's jacket, Sam tries to stay on the sane side of desire, although he's almost there, willing to let Lucifer move his fingers up further. Right that instant Sam would like Lucifer to throw him down across the loveseat and _take_.

Fighting to breathe, Sam pulls back, one hand against Lucifer's chest, as if it makes it possible to keep the flood of sensations at bay. "Stop, Lucifer. We can't-"

"Says who?" Lucifer nuzzles at Sam's neck, ruining any attempts to behave remotely sensibly. "You are driving me mad just by letting me touch you."

"I say so," Sam insists. "We might be bonding, but we're _not_ mating here."

Lucifer is disappointed, although he pretends not to be. "Mhm, no, you're right, of course. I am not going to lose myself, taking my bondmate up against a men's room's wall like your brother did to his mate; at least that's what I've been told. I admit that I'd like nothing more than to make you mine right away, Sam, but I imagine something special for us, something unforgettable. A luxurious hotel, the presidential suite. Dinner and wine. Slow seduction. A slow burn before I light the fire that will be our love." Lucifer kisses Sam's neck, letting him feel the slightest scrape of sharp canines against his skin. Sam moans; his skin is tingling and lust buzzes through him, veins burning with need. Sam tries to hold on to something Lucifer just said, something important, but he can't _remember_ , not with Lucifer's lips on his skin. The small bites do little to stop Sam from stretching his neck for Lucifer, wanting everything he offers and more. "Tomorrow, baby, if it suits you?" Lucifer whispers, even his silken voice is seduction in itself. "Tomorrow I'll make you mine."

Some words manage to worm their way through the haze. _Baby_? Sam's not sure he likes it, but he guesses that they can work it out. He's neither _Sammy_ , nor _baby_. But if that's the only thing they have to work on, Sam's not complaining. "Yes," Sam says. "Yes, I think it will suit me." It suits him, too, to take a break, to have time to think about what has happened. Before he mates with Lucifer. Under the influence of Lucifer's obvious power and the just as obvious and powerful scent of a major alpha, Sam cannot, will not, allow himself to give in.

Reluctantly Lucifer disentangles himself from their embrace, standing to help Sam get up. Sam frowns at the indication that he — a few inches taller and considerably broader over the shoulders — is in need of assistance to get up from a couch. Sam manages a tense smile and takes Lucifer's hand as not to appear ungrateful or rude. All right, so there's going to be more than one issue to sort out, but they can do it, Sam's sure. Lucifer's attentive, that's all. Leaning in as if to kiss him once more, Lucifer must have difficulties as well; Sam can see the longing he feels reflected in Lucifer's eyes. 

"Tomorrow, Sam. We'll mate and you'll belong to me forever."

"I know." It takes everything Sam has to step back and turn, leaving Lucifer to Anna's care. Sam doesn't turn to look at Lucifer as he walks out the door, closing it behind him. As it clicks shut, he leans back against it, letting out a relieved sigh. "Fuck." Not exactly what Sam had expected from meeting a random dude willing to pay for his company. 

A mate. A _bondmate_. Sam shakes his head in denial before he pushes off, walking towards the elevator. 

Tomorrow. 

Tomorrow he'll say yes to Lucifer, and his destiny will be forever tied up with the man he'll come to love.

At least he hopes that he will.


	3. Come With Me From Lebanon, My Bride

Sam walks the short distance back to the hotel, deep in thought. He's still tense, high-strung from arousal and mating-need, his skin tingling still where Lucifer touched him. He takes deep breaths, wiping his organism clean of the scent of his mate, because it makes it easier to be away from him. Sam is reluctant to let go. Lucifer is his bondmate. Or he will be. If Sam allows it.

If.

The further away from Lucifer Sam gets, the bigger that _if_ grows. Sam's brain is a cloudy day, muddled and dark and with the storm lurking behind the heavy clouds. Free of Lucifer's immense power, the sun suddenly seems to be penetrating the gray sky of Sam's mind, casting a sharp light upon the darkened earth. 

_If_. 

Fumbling with the key card, Sam opens the door to an empty room. Sam is relieved to see that Dean has left. It is not that he doesn't want to be with Dean and Gabriel, he just can't deal with them and their happiness, not right this instant. Sam needs to sort out instincts and wishful thinking, extracting from ecstatic bliss of having found his bondmate the truth of what he really wants. He needs to sort out those things so that he can stay _Sam_ : keeping true to who he is and who he wants to be. Somehow instincts, wants and ambitions have all been rumpled together in one tangled mess, his wishes suddenly not distinguishable from ambitions or goals or pure lust. Coming to an informed decision starts with Sam appreciating that Lucifer affects him in the most base way, triggers his instincts, making it almost impossible to deny Lucifer the Alpha what he wants. One thing Sam is sure of, however, is that he doesn't like how he reacts to Lucifer's undeniable power. The urge makes him want to submit. Sam knows, too, that if he offers Lucifer his submission, his life will be considerably less free than it was before he laid eyes on the man that biology chose for his mate.

Sam is not sure he likes it. No, scratch that. He's one hundred percent certain that he doesn't like it at all. 

Grabbing a beer from the fridge, Sam pulls off his shoes — expensive, elegant black shoes, nothing like he'd normally wear — and flops down on the soft bed, sliding a little on the smooth, lavender-scented silk. The bed has this little remote and Sam fiddles with it until the mattress has rearranged itself into a position that cleverly supports both being deep in thoughts as well as the drinking of expensive beer. Being here, in this Alliance-approved luxury hotel is so much out of his league that it's surreal. Even the beer is too much: some local microbrew that tastes like licorice and chocolate and nothing like the sour, cheap cat-piss that they usually drink.

What's also out of Sam's league is Lucifer. Rich, arrogant, superior. But loving, too, Sam isn't in doubt. Lucifer has strong feelings, he's passionate and possessive. It makes Sam worry that it's too much, that Lucifer's feelings and wants are too much. Sam has no intentions of being devoured, burned up. He does not want to see the person he fought to become disappear, erased by mindless instinct. Sam is anxious that he is throwing himself into the fire: his submission to a strong, relentless alpha is a furnace that will burn him up. Sam takes another swig of the beer, cherishing the exquisite taste. In the future — a future that includes Lucifer — he'll be able to afford such beer. Clothes. Living in the lap of luxury, provided by his strong and slightly patronizing alpha.

Sam knows it is wrong. He can feel it in his bones. It's not who he is. Sam is not a child to be pampered and spoiled. He is not meant to tag along like a two-year-old when Lucifer commands him to walk.

And just like someone who finally manages to shake out an grating pebble from his shoe, Sam feels the relief of understanding what has been nagging him since he met Lucifer this morning: Lucifer, from what little Sam knows after having been with the alpha for half an hour, might agree to join Dean's pack, but he'll never _stay_ there. Lucifer will never be content by being second, Sam is sure. Lucifer is all about possession, and he _will_ covet what belongs to Dean. He'll surely refuse to be a part of anything that isn't first and foremost _his_. They'll all become Lucifer's property. His omega. His pack. 

Sam's contract does include a passus about Lucifer joining Dean's pack. It does not include anything about that being a static situation. Sam knows how this goes already. Lucifer will accept. He will challenge Dean. He might win, which would ruin everything they have worked for. Or Dean will fight him and win. Lucifer will leave, and he will insist that his mate leaves with him. And it will ruin everything they have worked for, too.

Sam can't be a part of that. But, oh, he wants to forget how bad it will get in favor of saying yes to Lucifer.

Sam closes his eyes in denial. Every atom of his body longs for Lucifer, for his touch, for the strengthening of the bond that pulls them together. All Sam wants is to mate and breed with this handsome, strong alpha. 

Sam remembers the moment when Gabriel and Dean recognized the bond, the ten seconds it took for them to realize that they were perfect for each other. He recalls the ease with with they simply merged from being Dean and Gabriel, in seconds turning into this tightly-knit pack alpha-omega couple, strong and secure in each others' company. Equals. 

And Sam knows, just knows, that despite Lucifer's intelligence and the obvious care he feels for him, Lucifer will _never_ be Sam's equal. Sam will be omega and Lucifer will be his master, his alpha. Compared to the woman the Alliance found for him, Lucifer is clearly the better choice, not only because Lucifer is Sam's bondmate, or he will be, if Sam lets him. Finding that one person who is destined to be one's mate surely is uncommon and Sam knows he should be grateful that it happened to him. Being bondmates does give Sam an advantage, though, perhaps enough to give him the power to say yes: Lucifer is as affected by their bond as he is. Exchanging a bit of integrity for a gorgeous and kind, but slightly possessive bond-mate? It might not be that bad?

Sam thrusts his fist into the mattress, feeling confused and powerless. He needs to rein himself in. Instinct and sensibility are at war here. He can't decide, even though he knows the answer already. He can't. Not yet. He'll demand more meetings, more time, before he commits himself to a life with an strong alpha who will ruin Sam's dreams.

Maybe the contract can be altered? Sam is grasping at straws now, he wants Lucifer that bad. 

Laughing out loud, the taste of beer and defeat bitter, Sam knows, too, that he cannot allow anyone the leg up on Dean's leadership. Sam is not going to do anything that challenges Dean's rule or the unity of their pack. Gabriel is the perfect omega. He's so strong and confident, and so like Dean that it's almost eerie. Dean is hard on the outside and with a core so soft and caring that it makes Sam smile just to think of him. He loves his brother to the death. The way Gabriel completes Dean is obvious, and Sam has never seen Dean so content. Gabriel does that to him. That is how bondmates are _right_.

As for Gabriel, Sam needs to speak with him about Lucifer. Anna said they were family. Gabriel, in comparison, will probably give Sam a more honest answer since his allegiance is no longer with the Alliance or the Nadanos family. It is with the Winchester pack. With Dean. With them. Even if Sam ignores his own reservations, he can't in good conscience choose Lucifer if Gabriel is against it. 

Exhausted, Sam leans back, trying to empty his mind, a task that works only too well. He wakes up hours later, cradling the empty beer bottle in one hand. It's a rude awakening, Dean and Gabriel tumbling through the door, Dean's tongue in Gabriel's throat. Judging from Dean's deep, aroused moans, Gabriel's hand is down Dean's pants somewhere. The door slams hard behind them, Gabriel pushing Dean up against the wall. "Wanna fuck you, tied up and on your knees," Gabriel groans before Sam can stop them. God, he already knows far too much about their relationship as it is.

"Dude!" Sam makes a gagging sound, unable to hold back an embarrassed grin as Dean and Gabriel let go of each other, Gabriel looking surprised, Dean blushing. Gabriel doesn't blush; his smirk is unashamed, as if it amuses him that Sam is there. 

"Hi, kiddo," Gabriel laughs. "Way to cockblock me." He pulls Dean close, wrapping both arms around him almost lovingly. "Wanna go somewhere more private, sweetheart?" For a few more seconds they ignore Sam totally — enough time for Sam to understand that _this_ truly is how a bond between mates should feel. It's fun and easy and loving. 

"Whoa, wait!" Sam gets up, not wanting Dean to disappear. He needs his pack alpha's advice. He wants Gabriel's obvious insight: if anyone can help him understand Lucifer, who'll be better than a member of Lucifer's family? Sam needs both of them; both Dean and Gabriel. "Dean, please?"

Dean stops, stepping back from Gabriel with a soft, "Sorry, babe" whispered into his mate's ear. "Sammy, you all right?"

Not knowing what to say, mostly because he isn't sure himself, Sam shakes his head, sitting down on the bedside. "I've... Don't know. Today I met with the guy who is supposed to be my new mate." Sam looks up. "He's from Gabriel's old pack," he elaborates. "Family. His name is Lucifer Nadanos."

Gabriel freezes, eyes instantly turning angry tiger-yellow. "No!" 

If Sam didn't know better, he'd say that Gabriel was panicking. But Gabriel doesn't do panic. "O-kay," Sam says, dragging out the word. He looks at Gabriel expectantly. 

"Sam, he's not pack. Or rather, he is, just not... we don't..." Gabriel shakes his head in denial. "He's my _brother_." 

"Your—"

"Yes. And you can't—" Gabriel shuts his mouth, looking confused and displeased. He shoots Dean a look. Dean nods. Gabriel sits down on the bedside. Suddenly all his usual zest seems to have left him. "Sam, have you mated?"

"No." Sam shakes his head again. "I haven't accepted his offer yet. But he's my..." Sam swallows. He has to get it out, his doubts and his fear and his longing. Gabriel and Dean will understand. "He's my bondmate. There's no doubt. The bond is forming already; I can feel its pull all the time."

Gabriel studies Sam's neck closely as if he's looking for the traces of a mating bite. "But no mating? No real mating yet?"

"Why?" Sam chokes out, fighting a sudden and unwanted loyalty to a man he knows close to nothing about, apart from the fact that he is willing to be Sam's mate. "Is it so bad?"

"Yes." The anger fades, turning into pain and loss. The sadness in Gabriel's eyes is evident. "On the plus side Lucifer is loving, gentle, loyal to a fault. The backside... because there _is_ a backside... Lucifer is dangerous, Sam, extremely dangerous. He is ruthless if he thinks that you're not one hundred percent loyal to him. He's obsessed with power and status." Catching Dean's eyes, Gabriel pauses, as if to seek Dean's approval. "I can't be omega under my brother, not even with Dean as my pack alpha. Which he by the way won't be for long, not if Lucifer hasn't changed. He'll take over, and he won't pull any punches until he gets what he wants."

Dean makes a sound, a contradictory sound, no words accompanying it, as if to say that Lucifer will never get the chance.

Gabriel frowns. He looks bereft, as if he lost something precious. "Lucifer wasn't always like this; that's the sad part. But here's my prediction: Lucifer's going to challenge Dean within a year. If he is going to wait that long. He's never going to accept a position as second alpha, or in this case he'll be third in rank, since Dean wants you, Sam, as his enforcer."

"Fourth," Dean says coldly. "He'll be fourth. You are my mate and if it's so important to outsiders, you are before anyone but Sam in rank, not that I care, I consider you two to be equals." 

Sam doesn't want to believe Gabriel's words. "But we're bondmates, Gabriel! There is nothing I can do now. We're destined to be together." Sam knows he sounds desperate and pathetic and he doesn't like it one bit. He still continues the discussion; whether it is to argue his case or to convince himself, Sam doesn't know. "Everybody know how it goes. Bondmates are predestined. They are attracted by genetics, by compatibility; they're attracted to create offspring for the good of the were community." 

"Oh, listen to yourself," Dean growls. "Fucking clean your act up, Sam! This is not what you are, a sperm container for a spoiled brat of an alpha."

"There really isn't anything I can do about it, is there?" Sam clenches his fists. He knows Dean is right, but it's so hard to fight the attraction.

"Isn't there? Isn't your freedom more important?" Gabe just asks quietly, reminding Sam of what he is and why he's here, why he accepted to sell himself to the Alliance. It's all about their integrity. For freedom. For himself, for Adam and for Dean.

And when Sam looks at his fellow omega, at the pain and the discomfort Gabriel exudes, Sam knows the true answer. Sam has not sold himself just to have that liberty and personal freedom taken away by an alpha, caught up in his own ambition and need to be king. Sam cannot jeopardize Dean's and Gabriel's rule. Sam's pack is his home. It's all he has: Dean, Gabriel and Adam.

Sam's shoulders fall. "Is it at all possible to deny a bond when it's already formed?" Sam asks, knowing now that he's going to be in for the fight of his life. His dream about having a loving mate is shattering. The small hope that he nurtured, despite the formal mating arrangement, is dwindling. The prospect of his future is changing rapidly. It isn't that Sam doesn't understand that the completion of the bond with Lucifer collides brutally with Sam's other goals and priorities, he merely has to accept that what he wants and what he gets are two different and incompatible things. 

It's down to the the brutal truth: either Sam chooses the happiness of his pack, or he chooses the man who will come to love him for the rest of his life. Sam live his life as a free, strong omega, or he takes another road and becomes the cherished possession of an alpha who wants power more than anything in the world. Maybe Lucifer wants that even more than he wants Sam.

If what Gabriel says is true, and Sam has little reason to think otherwise, Lucifer will disrespect them all, reaching for the power within his grasp. Dean will win if Lucifer challenges him, Sam has no doubt and they will have to leave. It defies everything Sam has ever fought for, binding himself to a mate who eventually take him away from his beloved brother and from his new pack brother whom has yet to get to know.

Lucifer will ruin his life. Lucifer will ruin Gabriel's life. Lucifer will ruin Dean's life.

It is not going to happen.

On the bottom line Sam's decision is not a difficult decision at all.

Sam's caught in a minefield made from equal parts of lust and refusal. While not particularly elated that he has another meeting Lucifer scheduled, he's relieved that their meeting is going to take place at yet another hotel, one that caters to weres very discreetly. Lucifer's suggestion, but that's fine, Sam doesn't need Anna to babysit. As long as Sam isn't going to be alone with Lucifer the hotel is as safe as any place. Sam _is_ omega, that much is true, but Lucifer is _not_ his mate. He has only the power over Sam that any other strong alpha has, even if the bond doesn't make it any easier. But Sam has the future of his family to fight for and it helps him keeping strong. Doubt still gnaws at his heart. Finding one's bondmate is a once-in-a-lifetime thing and most weres go through life without meeting the one. It's not the end of the world—it isn't as if a mating bond is a guarantee for eternal happiness. Most mates end up content and happy with their lovemate, that's how it works for most of the were-kind anyway, love without the benefit of the strong, unbreakable bond, and without the downside of being close to owned by a partner. Sam has to make do; maybe he and his mate find love despite everything, who knows?

Sam's phone rings as he walks down the street towards the Grand Hotel. 

"Why aren't you at the salon?" Anna's tone is less friendly today. "I heard that you are meeting outside our office? I thought I could trust you not to fuck this up." 

"Not buying or selling under false label," Sam says, none too friendly. "I want to see him in a place where he's not obliged to adhere to your rules." Anna has been a bit too busy advertising Lucifer for him to trust her entirely, he can see that now that he and Gabriel has had the opportunity of comparing notes. And Sam most definitely doesn't like that Anna gets snippy with him. "Lucifer is entitled to know what he's buying, Anna. I'm not dressing up for him on a daily basis. When we get back to the pack, I'm still a hunter, and he should know what he's bargaining for, and that's me in jeans and boots and plaid," Sam states, not caring to take any shit for it. He doesn't want to let her in on his plan. He doesn't want to explain to Anna that he's actually going to refuse Lucifer. Then again, she has been good to him and he owes it to her. "Besides, my alpha couple has asked me to reconsider."

"They _what_?" Anna's voice turns shrill. "But-"

"You've talked to Lucifer, haven't you?"

The silence stretches out.

"Yes," Anna finally admits. "Of course I have. I was under the impression that a bond between you and him was-"

"It isn't going to work. Not if he doesn't change." Sam says it with a determination he doesn't truly have. He'd like to feel stronger. He still has to face Lucifer, knowing that the alpha might try to persuade him that a bond between them is inevitable. Sam imagines Anna's dissatisfied frown. She clearly isn't happy with him. He'd be surprised if she were.

"And you're meeting with him, where? Sam, you going somewhere with him alone?" 

"Er, yes. Or... we're having dinner at his hotel. In public. That should be safe enough. We'll be at the Grand Hotel."

"Do _not_ go anywhere alone with him, Sam. Don't give him even the tiniest chance if you are sure you do not want him. Please."

Sam's almost at the restaurant. "Yesterday you couldn't stop praising him, and now you tell me I shouldn't go anywhere with him. He's that much of a douche?"

"He's not, not really. It's just that... you do remember-" Anna stops talking again. Sam stops too, about to step into the hotel. Anna decides to be a bit more informative. "I can't, Sam. Zachariah's going to have my ass for speaking poorly about the clients behind their backs. I already did, I know. I can't." Anna hesitates for a moment. "Oh, dammit! He can't fire me anyway. So... I know that Zachariah told you that some alphas would like to take on a challenge. You remember that?"

"You mean, like-" Sam takes a deep breath. It might be worse than he thought. "Traditionalists who'd love the challenge of breaking in an omega to suit their... lifestyle?" Sam blows out a stream of air, turning around and walking back down the street. "He's going to breed me and take without my consent? I'm going to be his personal puppy mill, is that it? He's going to rape me because he can?"

"Yes and no. If you weren't who you are, Lucifer would be the perfect mate for you, for anyone, basically. He's a bit possessive, true. And he's an asshole if he doesn't like you. There is nothing wrong with him, mate-wise, except that he's old school and used to be in charge. Of _everything_. He'll love you and pamper you, I'm sure of it. He loves strongly; that's what everybody who knows him says." Pausing again Anna sighs too. "Maybe that's why the bond was invoked instantly. You are both strong and so very resourceful. Your pups... they'll be incredib- "

"My alpha told me to tell Lucifer no." Not entirely true, but Sam got the message. Gabriel doesn't want Lucifer in their pack, and what Gabriel wants Dean wants. Sam could insist, of course, but it'd mean that Lucifer and he would have to split from the Winchester pack and start their own. Sam doesn't want that more than he wants to be a breeding machine for a traditionalist alpha. 

"Then just don't go in there. Please, Sam," Anna begs. "Not without another alpha to accompany you. I'm not sure Lucifer will be above taking what he already sees as his. Of course he's not going to rape you, he's not a criminal, and he has never taken an omega without their explicit consent. I know a few of his former lovers." Anna pauses again. "He will use anything he has, all his power to convince you. He will use every weakness you have to get your accept. He is powerful, and with the attraction that the bond adds? You've got a better chance standing against a hurricane." Anna sounds persistent. "If you're going to refuse him, don't go in until you have Dean with you. Or you could reconsider? Keep in mind that you know what kind of life you'll get with Lucifer. And he _will_ love you and care for you, I swear. You don't know what Zachariah will send you as your third and last choice. He could get vengeful. It could get worse."

"I know." Sam nods, despite Anna isn't actually there to see it. He doesn't want to think about his third pick, the one he won't be allowed to reject, he really doesn't. There are more pressing matters to take care of. "Lucifer has been nothing if not kind to me, and I owe him an explanation," Sam insists, knowing that he has to go. He wants to give Lucifer the courtesy of turning him down in person, preferably without having Dean there to piss Lucifer off. It still makes Sam nervous, though. The phone becomes slippery in Sam's slightly sweaty hand. "I'll be careful. Promise. I need to do the right thing." 

Sam has been up against ghosts and ghouls, against zombies and shapeshifters. But this is going to be nothing like facing a monster. It'll be Sam, going to tell the man he's destined to be with that he's refusing the bond between them. Oh, Sam would rather face an entire churchyard full of zombies, ghouls and ghosts, mostly because he's sure his chances of getting out without getting chewed up and gobbled down are considerably higher with the ghouls. Anna's right, as is her warnings, but Sam needs to finish his budding relationship with Lucifer in a way that doesn't hurt Lucifer's feelings more than absolutely necessary.

His own are already writhing in pain.

"I'm going to lose my job over this," Anna says. It's a blatant lie since she owns part of the company. "Zach's gonna kill me. I'm calling Dean."

When Sam enters the restaurant, Lucifer is already there; Sam can smell him. It's the scent of snow-covered forests and burning wood. It's the smell of pheromones, expensive clothes and money. Lucifer stands, his smile making Sam utterly weak in the knees. God, he'd love to give everything up so that Lucifer could be his mate. Yeah, Sam would give up everything but his pack and the happiness of his brother's bondmate. Lucifer's scent is making Sam dizzy, his entire organism seems to react to Lucifer's presence. Even stripped of the alpha dominance Sam would look more than once at Lucifer Nadanos, because Lucifer is damned hot. 

The mâitre d' hurries to show Sam to the table, sending his clean jeans and the casual shirt and the missing tie a disapproving glare. He doesn't say anything; perhaps Lucifer's fortune buys such privileges as well, privileges like dining in an upscale restaurant, wearing whatever the fuck he and his omega like to wear. Lucifer welcomes him with appreciative nod, holding out a hand for Sam to take. 

Sam ignores it and sits down. He's not going to draw out the conversation. He can just as well get it over with. "I am flattered and honored by your attention, and I know that finding a bondmate is unusual, and that I should be grateful for this, but I can't. I can't say yes to you."

Lucifer is still standing. Sam knows he's made a mistake, letting Lucifer loom over him. He refuses to look up, instead bending his head as not to bare his throat. It is as if the air in the restaurant turns colder. 

"See, Sam, this is what you haven't yet understood," Lucifer says. He reaches out, one hand on Sam's shoulder. It's warm, but the coldness of angry tension seeps through the fabric of Sam's shirt. "Zachariah warned me. You haven't truly realized that you are omega, that your place is with me. _My_ omega. My destiny." 

Bracing himself, Sam shifts so that he can get up, but Lucifer's hand keeps him seated. Lucifer is strong, so much stronger than Sam had thought he'd be, and Sam is no weakling. The fingers that clutch as his shoulder dig in painfully, and Sam growls, wanting Lucifer to let go of him. 

"Don't," Lucifer says and releases his hold. "You are making it worse, Sam. You belong to me, and I need you to come to me willingly. I will not let you go." He leans forward, his breath ghosting over Sam's neck. "I could take you here and now, forcing the mating bite on you, but I am not going to hurt you. I will never hurt you, never take an unwilling omega by force."

Looking up, entangled in scent and promises, almost unable to fight, Sam growls again. "Then let me go. Please, Lucifer. You'll make me leave my pack and I can't. I promised Dean that I'd stay."

"I will not hurt you, I swear it," Lucifer repeats. "You are precious to me, and I will never do anything to make you suffer." Lucifer's lips slide over Sam's cheek in a soft whisper of skin against skin. "Your brother and his little misfit omega, on the other hand... "

Sam's head snaps up and he looks Lucifer in the eye, fear and anger fighting amongst themselves for dominance. "No! If you as much as think about touching Gabriel-"

"Then mate with me today and let me breed you. I want offspring and I want you to be my omega. You are handsome and intelligent. Perfect. Such unused potential, letting you roam free without proper guidance. I want to have you, Sam, to teach you how to be a proper mate. To be a good omega to me and a good parent for my children. I will do everything to protect your brother and his omega if you are my mate." Lucifer's voice turns cold and menacing. "If you are not, if you belong to someone else, I have no reason to hold back. Your choice, Sammy."

Oh, Gabriel was right: Lucifer is bad news. Sad and nauseous, afraid that this relentless alpha will hurt his pack, Sam is crumbling under pressure, unable to decide. It would be easier just to accept Lucifer. It wouldn't be too bad, knowing that his family would be protected forever. So he'll be bred and kept as Lucifer's bloody wife, so what? Sam can say yes to that, can't he? Lucifer is handsome, kind, everything Anna said he'd be. It won't be that much of a sacrifice. Sam even likes kids, although he never thought that he'd have any.

Lucifer takes his hand, rubbing it gently. "I promise you, Sam. I'll cherish you, I'll give you everything you want, just be mine. Say yes. If you agree to have my pups and care for them, I'll never force you to do anything you don't want. We'll be good together. I'll show you what true passion means." Lucifer maybe senses that Sam's defenses are crumbling under pressure, because he turns Sam's head up, a finger on his chin, far too close, the allure suffocating. "Kiss me, and let's go upstairs and mate so that I can make you happy. I want to help you fulfill your place in our society as my precious, beloved mate. Please, say yes, my beautiful, strong omega."

What Lucifer apparently considers to be loving words are like a bucket of cold water on Sam's mind. Fulfill his place in society? To be little more than a bitch, alternating between nursing pups and being bred over and over and over? Despite the nightmare that Lucifer paints for him, Sam wants Lucifer so badly, wants to do right away what Lucifer suggests. Lucifer's desire is a furnace, burning away the cold. It takes everything Sam is, every bit of power and determination he owns not to throw himself at Lucifer right there and then, begging Lucifer to take him and knot him in the middle of the restaurant.

"Fuck, no!" Sam says and pushes Lucifer's hand away. "What part of _no_ don't you understand?" Sam gets up, fighting himself, clinging to the memory of Gabriel's scared expression when he understood that Sam were about to say yes to Lucifer. "I regret that it cannot be, but I will not take you as my mate, and I refuse the bond between us."

"You are insane. I cannot believe that you're in your right mind," Lucifer hisses, not backing off. He scans the room, maybe looking for the mâitre d'. "Omega, you are coming with me right now. You _will_ become mine. You will not refuse me, you shall obey and accept to come with me so that I can convince you to accept with gratitude what I offer you. And you will kneel for me and accept my gracious offer. You will give me your consent. Your yes."

A direct order is more than Sam can stand. Lucifer is not his pack alpha, but he's so strong, too strong. "Never," Sam groans, getting up, intending to walk away but he has difficulties not reaching for Lucifer's hand. 

"Come with me, Sam," Lucifer says again. "Come willingly and I will give you anything you wish for."

"Then let me go," Sam begs, taking Lucifer's hand, contradicting his mind with his body. "That's my wish. Please." Sam is so conflicted, his body wants one thing, his mind something else. Sam still can't decide. He knows what he wants now, and Lucifer is not it. Thousands of years of inbred instincts try to take over; it's as if Lucifer's magnetism draws Sam closer. Lucifer is devastatingly irresistible. "You said you wanted me to come willingly and I will never do that." Despite the protest, Sam's pressing himself up against Lucifer, his arousal drowning out all the warnings that his brain tries to get in. "Lucifer," Sam moans softly. He is so close to caving in and letting go, when suddenly a well-known voice pulls him back into the real world.

"Lucy, I'm home!" 

Sam gasps, suddenly free of the spell that Lucifer has cast upon him. Lucifer whips around, anger marring his handsome face as he forgets about Sam for a moment. "Brother!" Lucifer's voice is like ice, sharp and cold. He steps in front of Sam, as if to separate him from Gabriel. Lucifer grabs Sam's arm painfully hard, and it takes all Sam's strength to yank it free. "Leave, Gabriel," Lucifer growls, "Or I'll make you regret it."

"Right. Or you could cut the temper tantrums and piss off and leave my pack member alone. You're not my alpha, _bro_ , and you are going to demand jack squad from me. We're so over."

"Too much time spent with the Winchesters," Lucifer sneers. "You really are slumming it, aren't you?"

"Oh, _blah, blah, blah_. You are so fucking tiresome, Lucifer. Always pampered, always used to getting special treatment, always demanding better candy than everybody else and now you act like a fucking child because you can't have the mate that you've decided you want? Even though he's telling you to your face that he's not interested? You're the most pathetic douchebag alive." Gabriel rolls his eyes, shaking his head. He couldn't look more disdainful if he tried.

Around them patrons start talking and pointing. The waiters look unsure of what to do. The mâitre d' steps forward. "Please gentlemen. We're not used to pack wars here, and if you-"

He doesn't get any further before Lucifer growls at him, canines bared, leaving no doubt what will happen if the man interferes.

"I'm calling the pack council," the mâitre d' says, making a quick retreat. 

Sam grabs the opportunity and hurries to join Gabriel. "Thanks, dude." Sam keeps his voice low, in vain of course , since Lucifer can hear him anyway.

"Can't say how much it's my pleasure," Gabriel grins and steps forward, despite his size ready to act as a shield between Sam and Lucifer. Standing up to Lucifer is no mean feat. "I love my brother, but God, he's such a dick." Gabriel smiles, not a very kind smile. He turns to Lucifer again. "Dean's on his way. I thought that you'd like to know that you're about to get your ass kicked in so many ways you can't even count them. You'd probably like to go somewhere else. Unless you really want Dean to rip your head off and feed it to you." Gabriel pats Lucifer on the shoulder, utterly condescending. "I don't think they'd like their carpets ruined here; blood's such a bore to clean up. You should go. Sam stays, that goes without saying, but since you are a bit hard of hearing, I'll say it anyway: Sam stays with me and Dean."

"Sam is _mine_ ," Lucifer starts, glaring daggers at Gabriel. "I-"

"Sure. And _I_ do recall your contract saying that Dean is your pack alpha in that case. I mean, if you had already claimed Sam, that is. Which you haven't because he told you no. Dean isn't in the best of moods and since you're just an ordinary asshole alpha, and not Sam's mate... oh, boy."

Sam shakes his head vigorously. "He hasn't. Claimed me. And he won't get the opportunity."

"It makes me so happy that I can hardly breathe." Gabriel smirks. "Dean will be delightfully angry and I simply can't wait to see my mate and alpha take it out on the douchebag who tried to molest his beloved brother." Gabriel looks positively elated at the idea.

"You? You are choosing that pathetic alpha of yours over your own brother? Gabriel, really?" Lucifer is disappointed, his expression the epitome of sorrow. "Little brother, you can't truly _mean_ that. For those two _cockroaches?_ "

"Hm-hm." Sam coughs, unwisely, but deliberately drawing attention to himself. "As I — and everybody else in this place who has an attention span remotely longer than that of a goldfish — recall it, I was the love of your life less than five minutes ago." Sam makes a face. Anything to keep Lucifer occupied until Dean arrives. Being strong in force might allow them to retreat without a fight. "You really give the word 'fickle' an entirely new level of meaning, Lucifer." Sam adds, unable to hold back the snide comment, as if hurting Lucifer helps cutting the bond.

Gabriel laughs, short and bitter. "Oh, Lucifer! I love you, bro, but dammit, you are the most spoiled asshole to ever walk the earth. Did you ever consider that there's a good reason that none of your brothers care to talk to you any longer? Michael, Raphael, Uriel..." Gabriel holds up a hand, as if to cut off Lucifer from speaking. "You know, even Samandriel hates you and he gets along with _everybody_. Except you."

If Lucifer was angry before, Gabriel's rant does little to calm things down. Lucifer freezes, his eyes narrow. The obvious anger turns into a stone cold mask of rage. For a second everything stands still, then Lucifer lashes out, hand changing into a claw-fingered weapon in a tenth of a second. 

Sam lunges, but it's too late. Lucifer's claws hit their target, ripping a deep gash into Gabriel's chest. 

" _Fenrir_!" Gabriel curses and clutches at his heart, blood spurting and his breath rattling as he fights for air. He falls down on his knees, air and life seeping out of him with the pulsing blood. 

Sam registers vaguely that the other patrons are screaming, before he, too, turns into a half-wolf, hazel fur and sharp claws. Golden-eyed fury takes over, leaving most of Sam's humanity behind. Enraged, he throws Lucifer back against the table, wine and blood making a mess on the floor. Closing his fist around Lucifer's throat, Sam lets his anger rise, letting it swallow up his need for his bondmate. He bares his teeth. "Move, and I'll rip your fucking throat out," Sam snarls, tightening his fist until Lucifer makes a grating sound, as if he's choking on anger and fear alike. Sam _likes_ it. 

"That's enough." Dean's voice booms through the restaurant, making both humans and weres freeze. Sam, too, stops, his prolonged canines a mere inch away from Lucifer's neck. Oh, God. He wants to sink his teeth into Lucifer's flesh. Sam wants to kiss him and bite him and to rip him apart in little pieces, all at the same time. 

"Shift, Gabriel," Dean demands. "Now!" There is no trace of emotion at all. Dean is cold as stone, all alpha leader, as he forces Gabriel's change before it's too late, forcing his body into its original state, the bending and breaking and merging of skin and bones triggering immediate healing. Gabriel needs to shift and without his alpha's command he's too wounded to do it. Dean turns to look at Sam, iron eyes and control. "Sam?"

It's a question, not a command, the way Dean has always dealt with them being alpha and omega. Sam tenses, knowing that he can't rip Lucifer's throat out, not here, not in the middle of a restaurant. They have to be discreet, stay down, out of sight. Sam nods. "Dean." He doesn't need more than that to stand firm against Lucifer. The never-wavering support from his brother is enough. "I'm okay." Sam releases Lucifer, snorting derisively at the man under him. "Not worth it," Sam says, flipping his hair as he gets up. He stares down on the alpha that his body craves, but that his mind rejects.

"Feel free," Dean says, his voice barely more than a growl. "If you wanna kick Lucifer's ass, I'm all for it. Just don't kill him. You know he's no match for you, Sammy. He's nothing but hot air and arrogance. Jerk."

Sam shakes his head, putting his hand on Dean's shoulder. The touch grounds him, makes him able to think. The lingering anger makes him able to fight the attraction to Lucifer. "No, Dean. He isn't worth it. He really isn't. Let's get out of here."

Dean is turning to his lover; now his expression is one of deep worry. He's supporting Gabriel as he stands on four shaky legs; a tiny golden wolf with yellow eyes, barely bigger than a small German Shepherd. "You need a doctor?" Dean asks, carefully sliding his fingers through Gabriel's fur, searching for the wound.

Gabriel whines and shakes his head. If they can get him back into safety, another shift will probably take care of the injuries. The stream of blood has dried up; it's merely a slow trickle, not the life-threatening, pulsating flood it began as. Despite losing blood, a lot of it, Gabriel is not in immediate danger any longer. 

"I'll get a doctor to look at you anyway," Dean insists, uncharacteristically gentle with his mate. "And no," he says firmly as Gabriel makes a low growl, "it's not up for debate, omega," Dean decides, pulling the alpha card on his mate, rubbing Gabriel's ear to make sure that they're okay. 

With one last glance at Lucifer, still caught in the middle of transforming back fully into his human form, Sam turns his back to the man who was supposed to be his loving mate. "Let's get back to our hotel," Sam says. "We're done here. Done."


	4. All Your Lovers are Destroyed

Damage control is a bitch. Sam keeps the phone a foot or so from his ear, but he certainly has no difficulties hearing Zachariah. Dean, sitting on the opposite bed, Gabriel curled up at his side, sends Sam a supportive look. What a way to wake up. Sam groans. He shouldn't have tried drowning his sorrows in beer and, well, more beer. 

"It is against all our rules, Winchester! How on earth could you agree to meet with Lucifer in a place that was not approved by us? Without a chaperon? Are you out of your mind? I am all for omega emancipation, but this is taking things too far! Have your pack alpha truly endorsed this behavior?" Zachariah is all but shouting.

Zachariah has to breathe at some point, so Sam waits for the right moment. "Maybe your main concern should be that your company's precious asset — that would be _me_ — was fucking attacked by the alpha _you_ recommended? I barely avoided being force-mated to that lunatic you sent. Not precisely good for the reputation of your company, wouldn't you say?"

It deflates Zachariah a bit. "Of course. You are right. It was a mistake." There is a long pause. "On behalf of the Alliance, I apologize. We are prepared to pay for the damages done, especially any damage that might have been done to the innocent omega involved in this unfortunate event."

Sam takes it that Zachariah means Gabriel because even Sam has to admit he isn't entirely innocent, caught up as he was in his desire for Lucifer. Still, there is no excuse whatsoever for Lucifer's behavior. Being in the middle of a disastrous bonding isn't an excuse for Sam, either. Sam acted irrationally, blinded by his need for Lucifer, and he is willing to admit it. This irrational behavior is not going to happen again, however. "Thanks. I appreciate it," Sam says. "I, too, apologize for the inconvenience." Sam takes the polite approach, despite his dislike for Zachariah. Being hostile is only going to make things worse for him. Anna has warned him that Zachariah can be petty, and Sam is fairly sure that it will be Zachariah who picks out his last offer. No, Sam has to stay calm and polite; it might spare him fifty years of misery.

"Our lawyers have spoken to the restaurant's manager. They were evoking pack law, and the pack council agrees that this does not leave the room, so to speak. Although the Grand Hotel has a weres-only zone, Lucifer still behaved in a way that jeopardized the secrecy we value. Luckily the hotel management... they are not going to sue, but there will be a substantial bill to pay. We have taken care of that." Zachariah has stopped shouting. It definitely makes him sound more business-like and professional. 

Sam takes a relieved breath. His main priorities, saving Adam and providing Dean with money enough for a pack of his own, have not been jeopardized either. "So, now what?"

"We will proceed as planned. You are not wounded, and the controversy is solved. I see no reason for delay. We will have your last appointment scheduled for tonight. The bids are getting higher as we speak, and working within a time limit tends to make suitors bid a bit more aggressively. We close the auction at six tonight, then we will elaborate and choose the highest _appropriate_ bid. We do not want a repeat performance of what happened yesterday."

"Oh." Obviously the Alliance doesn't do grace or mercy well. What does it matter that Sam was almost mated to an insane traditionalist against his will or that his pack omega was hurt? "And despite the attack, Lucifer counts as my second offer?" Sam's shoulders tense, as if his body hasn't yet let go of the traumatic encounter.

"He proposed. You refused." Zachariah is stone cold. "Anyone else would be grateful that we move fast. The current highest bid is, even by our standards, staggering. You've become a precious commodity, Mr Winchester."

"What? Why?" Sam would think that refusing Lucifer would have the opposite effect, labeling him as trouble for any alpha worth his money.

"There are enough alphas out there, coveting what Lucifer could not have. You denied Lucifer what he thought was already his, and your price went sky-high because of it. For revenge, I suppose. Lucifer isn't exactly popular and I'm not the only petty wolf in our world, Sam."

Being sold as a status symbol so that a lucky alpha male is able to dangle his purchase in front of Lucifer to piss him off? Sam can hardly wait. He doesn't know what to say, and he simply sighs into the phone, his mind blank.

Zachariah, on the other hand, has no such problem. "So now you will take whoever we choose for you," he goes on. "Unless you pay the fine to get out of the contract. If you're lucky, Gabriel's considerable assets just might cover what you owe us." Zachariah chuckles. He sounds arrogant, triumphant, as if all this amuses him to no end. "Or you could ask your youngest brother to swap places with you. I'm sure Lucifer would appreciate it, making a bid for your teenage brother. You approached the Alliance, Winchester; you can blame yourself for the situation, if not for Lucifer's intolerable behavior. Unless the alpha we choose for you rejects you after your date, you're mated by tomorrow evening. In other words, you are out of choices, omega."

Sam rubs his forehead, miffed. He opens his mouth to protest but shuts it again. He knows already that it won't work. He catches Dean's eyes. Dean nods. Sam knows what it means. _If you need to back out, we'll manage._ "I'm not asking for more choices," Sam tells Zachariah, as determined now as he was before they started this. He cannot decline. The fine they'd have to pay is not Sam's burden alone: it's their entire pack which will suffer. Everything Dean and he have tried to accomplish by joining the Alliance will be lost. Except for Gabriel, of course. He seems attached to Dean by the hip, or possibly some other body part that Sam refuses to think of right now. "I'm only asking that you will do me the courtesy to offer me up to someone more appropriate. Someone more accepting of modern omegas."

"I'll do my best," Zachariah snaps, sounding as if he'd prefer to skip Sam off to the most sadistic traditionalist he can think of. "There are a few of the highest bidding alphas who might do. I have someone in mind," he says, and disconnects.

Sam throws the phone at the covers. He slides his hand through the lock of hair that has fallen over his eyes. "I'm fucked. What the hell do I do now?"

Gabriel gets up, unperturbed, and stretches, the rag of a t-shirt he's wearing showing off a nice, flat stomach. The wound in his chest doesn't seem to bother him much; a doctor, a good night's sleep and a few changes between wolf form and human have helped heal the deep gash. Gabriel grins as Dean merely sits there and gapes at him adoringly. "We'll pay the fine," Gabe says. "If Zach thinks he's able to bleed me dry, he's sorely mistaken." Gabriel doesn't even ask Dean whether he thinks it's all right to throw their entire fortune at Zachariah to buy back Sam's freedom. Then again, it is his money, although they're officially Dean's, according to pack law, not that Gabriel or Dean care. 

"What _he_ says." Dean nods. "You wanna look at the guy first?"

Sam hangs his head. It's as if everything he dreamed of, everything he wanted to accomplish, is sliding through his fingers like water. He thinks for a moment of Lucifer, loss and need and attraction surging through him, ending up in the black space inside him where his heart lies shattered. God, if he'd known it would be so hard to refuse a bond it might have been less painful to accept Lucifer, dealing with all his traditionalist issues. "I don't wanna talk about it."

Coughing, Dean does little to hide his surprise. " _You_ are refusing the touchy-feely moment I offer you out of the goodness of my heart? Fuck, Sammy, you're so screwed."

"Yeah," Sam agrees, making a face. "I am. Because..." Emotions are clogging up everything and Sam has difficulties breathing, because if he does, the tears that lurk in the corners of his eyes will show, and Sam can't, won't, cry in front of his pack alpha. "I don't think anyone can replace... him."

"Except for the puppy-mill breeding and the free house-keeping that Lucy wanted from you. Sure you'd like that replaced with something," Gabriel argues. "With, er, respect? Love? Care?"

"I wanted for Adam to be free." Sam says. "So that he wouldn't have to go through what I'm going through. He should never have to take a mate for money. I could do that for him. I hoped that I could, you know, just mate with some guy I liked, no fuss. Didn't count on having my soul ripped out and my heart broken in the process." It would have been so much easier if he'd never met Lucifer. Having a slight taste what his life could have been like with a true bond-mate renders everyone else useless and uninteresting. Only Lucifer will do.

"Let's not," Dean growls, obviously regretting the offer of a heart-to-heart talk. "I'm. You know. Girl moment. Done."

"Grow up," Gabriel snaps, poking Dean in the shoulder. "Seriously. It's serious shit to deny a bond, baby."

"Yeah, all right, I know-"

"I'm not refusing another offer," Sam interjects before Dean can wreak more havoc on his feelings. "Not unless the guy has more conservative traditionalist beliefs than Lucifer. It'll set back our plans for our own pack, our own place." Sam looks up, a reluctant smile gracing his lips at the sight of his pack alpha and his omega. How at ease they are with each other without really knowing each other at all. That is how it's supposed to be, the mating of alpha and omega: attraction, respect, support, equality. Okay, so beer and kinky sex are probably also involved. Still, Gabriel and Dean are Sam's safety blanket: as long as Dean leads the pack, Sam won't come to any harm. And to ensure it stays that way, Sam's mate needs to be an alpha who wholeheartedly wants to join their pack and not just pretends for the sake of getting an omega to breed and use at his leisure. Sam needs to be sure this time. He doesn't care if the guy's ugly and old as long as he doesn't threaten Dean.

"If Zachariah finds someone you can accept, I want that alpha to swear his allegiance and loyalty to our pack _before_ you agree to mate with him," Dean says totally in sync with Sam's thoughts. "Do you need me to make it an order, so that you can't mate, no matter what Zachariah throws at you, no matter what another alpha demands of you?"

"Sam stood against Lucifer," Gabriel says, as if it explains everything.

Maybe it does. "No thanks, Dean. I'll be fine. And it can't be much worse." Sam sends Gabriel a look. "Sorry. I know Lucifer is your brother."

It's okay, kiddo. I haven't seen him for ages anyway, and it better stay like that, our little intermezzo all but forgotten; we don't exactly share the same values. I wonder why." Gabriel purses his mouth as if he's thinking hard. "Let's see... Oh! Maybe it's just that he _is_ an arrogant, superior dick who needs his bony ass kicked in so many ways I can't count them. Or maybe it's that, contrary to him, I am vehemently against having my heart ripped out through my chest. Yeah. That would be it."

"I wonder," Dean muses, "whether it's the blood. I mean, Sammy and Lucifer. You and me. Can bloodlines be attracted to each other?"

"That's a thought. Genetics." Gabriel returns to the bed, sliding in to sit close to Dean, snuggling up against him, eyes glittering. "And your bro's hot too."

"Gabe!" Dean looks positively scandalized.

"Sorry, sugar, but he is. Maybe it's just coincidence, but it's friggin' strange that it should happen by coincidence. It's not very likely that a second bond would create itself, just like that. I think you might be right—we're reacting to the possibilities of our merging bloodlines. I suppose we're meant to do great things with the new pack and all. And get some kids. Not too fond of that, but yeah. Let's get a dog to start with, and we can go from there."

"So it's our genes that are in love?" Dean laughs.

"Wait a week or two, and it'll not just be the genes, hotshot. You're cute."

"Mmm," moans Dean, tilting his head to allow Gabriel access to nuzzle at his neck. "'m thinking that two weeks are too long to wait for that."

Envious, Sam grabs his phone from the bed, refusing to look at his brother and his very appreciative omega. Damn, he could have had that kind of intimacy, had he given in to Lucifer. That and a litter of Lucifer's pups to care for and no will of his own. Sam can feel the burn of tears again as the pain rips into the pitiful remains of his heart. Rejecting a bond isn't for the faint at heart, and right now Sam's heart isn't even up to being faint—it's useless. Seeing Dean's happiness doesn't exactly help. 

"I'm- I have something to do." Getting up, Sam slides the phone into the pocket of his jeans and pulls on his jacket. "I'll be at the Alliance. Wanna go talk to Anna. I should prepare for later." He so isn't going to stay for the foreplay. Knowing Dean, Sam will probably be lucky if he makes it to the door before Dean's and Gabriel's foreplay technically isn't foreplay any longer.

"You owe me, Winchester," is the first thing Anna says to him as he steps up to her desk. She returns to her files and folders and ignores Sam a bit longer before she finally decides that he's worth her attention. "Zachariah is not pleasant when he's angry, I'll have you know."

"I'm really sorry." Sam doesn't have a problem, looking truly sad. He assumes it's going to be a constant state of mind for the foreseeable future. "I never meant for it to end like that."

"But it did." Anna snorts, watching him through half-closed, narrow eyes. She taps with a finger on a folder, considerably thicker than the others. "Your mate. Your new mate."

"When?" is all Sam manages. He is choking on longing and sadness. He already has a mate. He needs only to ask, and perhaps Lucifer will come back to him — if only Lucifer wasn't so conservative, and wishful thinking worked. In Sam's experience it doesn't. So, a new—another—mate. One who will be a true mate in name only. Sam tries to read said name upside down. He doesn't attempt to turn the folder. All Sam can see is something _Cast_ \- and the last letter of the surname. _N_. 

"If he accepts you, that is. You should know, though, that this immense pile of suggested and discarded omegas," Anna says, putting a hand on the thick folder, "didn't grow only because he rejected them. Let's just say that weird gets quite another meaning when you meet this one. Evidently not everybody appreciates weird."

Obviously not. Sam stares at the pile. How many omegas have this alpha rejected? Twenty? Forty? 

"What happened to ' _we need our omegas to meet their potential spouses with an open mind_ '? And why did he put in a bid for me, while we're at it? He's not one of those alphas, is he? Someone out for revenge? Zachariah said that some of the alphas want what Lucifer-" Sam stops, the pain of the torn bond overwhelming him by the mere mention of Lucifer's name. Sam takes a few ragged breaths, trying to calm down before he attempts to speaks again. He supports himself, palms flat against the polished desk. It smells of polish and perfume. Or maybe the perfume is Anna's. 

Anna laughs softly, a gentle sound that soothes Sam's mind. "I thought you should be warned about him, not because he's dangerous. He's... yeah. Weird. He's different, Sam. Nothing at all like his brother."

"His... brother?"

"He's Lucifer's younger brother. Lucifer and Gabriel's half brother."

Lucifer's _brother_? Sam simply can't. She can't do that to him! It can't be. Zachariah _promised_. Desperation makes Sam panic. "No!" Sam's glad he's holding on to the desk already. "Please, Anna..." He sounds pathetic, but there is no way that he can take on another Nadanos-brother. "Not that. Please. _Please_!"

"Stop behaving like an idiot," she chides. "Castiel is nothing like Lucifer, and there's a reason this pick could be good. Zachariah actually did his job well with this one. If he hadn't, I'd have asked the board to fire him," Anna states coldly. "Zachariah is the CEO because he is _good_."

Sam wonders, not for the first time why she is working as a secretary at all. Perhaps she likes it? Or perhaps she's crap at mating people. 

She reads his mind. "I don't have the ability to stay neutral," she says without Sam asking. "I started working here before Michael and Raphael. I'm good at what I do, too, as long as I'm not the one pairing couples up."

"I know you are." Sam does. She is in a position where she is able to have a finger on the company pulse all the time. Sam, despite his frustration and sorrow, can't stop himself from smiling. "I guess it makes sense. She's soft-hearted; tough _and_ soft-hearted.

"As I said," she says, "Zachariah did a good job, picking Castiel for you. First of all, Castiel is very eager to get out of the Detroit pack; I don't think he likes Lucifer very much. Their father... he's pack alpha, at least officially. But he's been absent for years; that's the cause of all the tension in the family. Lucifer has had too much power for far too long. Doesn't become Castiel very well, I believe. He'd not just be happy to leave, he'd be eager. You are the only other omega we'd had for ages who came with that kind of opportunity. Dean is offering Castiel a new pack, a less dysfunctional one. Castiel is going to have a high rank. He is going to help build a new pack. He might be inclined to take you for those reasons alone."

Fighting the urge to flee and throw himself at Lucifer to avoid his younger brother, Sam gets a grip. "Right. And he's still Lucifer's brother."

"He's _not_ a traditionalist. The rest of the family isn't. Once Michael was just as bad as Lucifer, and Raphael wasn't much behind, but I made them see reason. Gabriel is perhaps the most unrestrained of them, but that's how they've been raised. Too much free will, some would say."

"And by 'some' you mean Lucifer?"

"Yes. They don't really speak with him, any of them. Not actively fighting him or challenging him, but they have had their conflicts. Now they're agreeing to disagree, I suppose."

"You sound as if you know them all very well. I mean, not just your pack, but all of Lucifer's family."

Anna laughs again, this time a bit coquettish. "Yeah, you could say that again. As I told you, I'm mated to Michael and Raphael. They're _both_ Lucifer's brothers."

Sam forces his mouth shut. "Really?"

Anna shrugs. "It happens. Raphael is omega. They mated before I was even considered."

Sam doesn't say anything. True, it does, and maybe he should have let it happen to him as well if Dean had ever looked at him that way. Too late to change that now, what with Dean happily mated to Gabriel. Had Dean not been fluttering from one girl to the next, ogling everything with a pulse and tits, then the idea might have had merit at some point. "I understand," Sam says, "far too well." He leaves it to Anna to think what she likes about the fact that he loves Dean enough to have thought of him as a potential mate.

"Dean needed a bondmate to be a strong alpha," Anna says, demonstrating more empathy and understanding than Sam was willing to give her credit for to begin with. "You and him... you'd never have ended up with your own pack if you had mated. You might be his soulmate, sweetheart, but you are _not_ his bondmate. Dean would still be a minor alpha in a very large pack with you at his side. As for Adam? He would be in the situation you're in now, forced to mate for money. Gabriel means power. Money, bond, support, love. You can say what you like, but in this case, instinct and biology did a good thing. I think Dean will come out so strong that he will be a force to be reckoned with. If he continues to grow into that power the way he does now, he's going to end up a pack council member. He's got what it takes, and half of what it takes is someone like Gabriel at his side."

There is that. In a few days, Dean has consolidated their tiny pack, he's shown true power, facing Lucifer. Dean's personal life isn't looking too bad, either, with Gabriel to play with. "I know," Sam repeats, deciding to deal with reality, refusing to hang on to what could have been. Regret is not going to bring back what's lost. Attention once more directed to the desk and to Anna, Sam files away his pain. "So... Cas- Cas- _ti_ -el?"

Nodding, Anna turns the neatly ordered file folder. 

_Castiel Nadanos_

"What kind of name is Castiel? It's Hebrew?" Sam doesn't have to ask about the surname. There isn't a were alive who doesn't know it. 

"The angel of Thursday. Or maybe it's Wednesday. Can't remember. One of the weekdays. All the brothers have that kind of names."

"Goes with the Nadanos name, I suppose." Pointing at her name tag, Anna smiles. "Pretentious, right? Milton _and_ Nadanos. Zach likes to flaunt me."

"Isn't Nadanos Hebrew too? Although it doesn't sound like it."

Anna raises an appraising eyebrow. "You _do_ read."

"Stanford, pre-law. I read."

Anna looks appreciative, as if Sam's worth has gone up. "Castiel is Hebrew, yes. 'Na danos'— two words—is Enochian, at least if you believe in that kind of nonsense. The language of God and angels—and of weres, not that I see the connection. You know what it means?"

"Something about trinity. I suppose it relates to the trinity of alpha, beta and omega?"

"Nope. _The trinity obeys you_. The oath of allegiance, love and support that the first mated alpha pledged to Adam according to myth. _Adam_ -Adam. Not your brother. It's a promise on behalf of the mated trinity. That's why Michael and Raphael were so intent on getting a beta—they wanted to complete the trinity of alpha, beta and omega for the sake of power. Entirely unnecessary, but I'm not complaining. Each to their own; not everybody wants to be a part of a threesome." Anna waves a hand. "Enough with the linguistics. I know this is hard for you, but we need to get you ready. Have you eaten?" She pushes her chair back and takes the phone. 

"I don't really have that much of an appetite," Sam says, feeling nauseous at the mere thought of food of any kind.

"You have now. Don't care if I have to force feed you. Pepperoni and bacon pizza?"

"Urgh. No thanks. A salad?"

"Oh, you big bad omega, you. Caesar? You take the salad, I could eat Caesar myself, if that's all right with you."

Sam chuckles. "I'll try. But keep Caesar off my plate, if _that_ is all right with you."

Anna presses speed-dial and orders salad and a steak. Maybe there's a restaurant or cafeteria somewhere in the building, Sam doesn't know.

"Let's get you changed, Sam. You'd look more attractive in clothes you haven't slept in. And a shower wouldn't hurt, either. Maybe a toothbrush to chase away the stench of dead goat?"

Sam realizes that he's not exactly clean. "Sorry about that. I sort of... got drunk."

"No wonder," Anna says, patting Sam on the shoulder. "There's Advil at the salon."

"Thank God." Sam's sure that some Advil is going to improve his current situation with several hundred percent. "What are we waiting for?"

After a shower, food and painkillers, Sam feels like himself again. The pain of the bond is still there, not that he'd thought otherwise. It'll take a very long time before the hurt disappears, Sam's sure. Years, maybe. He doesn't know anyone who has ever defied a bonding, and needs to learn to live with what he has done. He owes it to himself to try to live with his choices instead of regretting them. He needs to accept that he had no choice. He will not sacrifice his freedom to be with Lucifer; it's not gonna happen. His responsibility to his family, to his alpha and to his new pack is above everything else and Sam is not going to turn tail to the troubles he's facing, running back to Lucifer for the sake of biology, not for the lack of want. But Sam has chosen, and the sooner he learns to live with his choices, the easier it will be to overcome the pain. Also, he needs to get a grip _before_ he meets Castiel Nadanos. This Castiel has done nothing to hurt him, and Sam does not wish to disrespect his new suitor by showing up, wallowing in the grief that Castiel's brother caused him.

"Is he like-" Sam looks into the mirror, catching Anna's eyes. "Does Castiel look like Lucifer?" It'll be very hard to bear if Castiel resembles his older brother. Sam really doesn't want to be reminded every day of what he refused.

One of the stylists giggles. "Very far from." There's a whisper somewhere, and Sam can sort out only _lips_ and _weird stares_. Promising. Or not.

Frowning, Anna snaps a, "That's enough!" at the stylist. She hands Sam a clean shirt and smiles. "Castiel is beautiful. There is no likeness. Not between him and Lucifer. None. Don't worry, Sam. With Castiel... If you have eyes, at least you won't mind the view."

Beautiful and weird. Or with weird lips. Sam wants to cry. He doesn't know what to expect. He is reluctant to ask for more information; he knows what he needs to know about Castiel Nadanos: Castiel is kind, he is nothing like Lucifer, and he doesn't look like him. On the bottom line little else matters. Sam slips on the shirt; it's a very nice white button down, nothing fancy. 

"Tie." The stylist hands Sam a similarly nice and rather conservative tie. 

"No." Sam shakes his head. "I'm done playing games. If Mr Nadanos doesn't like me as I am, he can find himself another omega." Sam likes the jeans and the shirt, but he doesn't give a fuck about the rest. He's not playing dress-up for yet another spoiled alpha with too much money and too little of everything else. Demonstratively, Sam unbuttons the top three buttons and rolls up the sleeves while Anna watches him, a wry smile on her red mouth.

"You done?" She rolls her eyes at him as he gets up, towering over her. Her tense smile relaxes. "Then again, if Castiel has eyes..." She cocks her head, openly appreciating Sam's look. " _Simple_ works on you, honey."

Managing a sarcastic smile, Sam says, "Thank you for your validation of my looks. I simply cannot wait to be objectified some more."

"At your service. It's what we do here," Anna retorts and points at the door. "Now get out and land yourself a decent alpha, you ass. Can't wait to get rid of you."

Sam realizes that he really likes Anna when the prim and proper attitude disappears and she becomes relaxed and a little cheeky. She makes him forget the pain that's gnawing away at his heart. "Gonna be pretty difficult, getting rid of me, seeing that you're mated to my intended's brothers," he teases, collecting his things and shoving them down a small bag. "If Cas-ti-el doesn't refuse me, that is." A part of Sam hopes that he will. Only Castiel actually sounds like a decent guy, at least one with integrity, judging from the number of discarded dates. Castiel is clearly a man with opinions. If he's more like Gabriel, Sam can live with it. Live with him. 

Sam turns his head, wanting to slap himself. "Oh fuck! Gabriel's going to be angry with me, isn't he? I haven't asked... Do you know... does he... does he like Castiel at all?" Gabriel most certainly hadn't liked Lucifer. If Sam's going to deal with the same kind of conflict with Castiel, then he needs to make Castiel understand that it's better to back out before it gets ugly. Gabriel does not take shit from anyone, and Sam won't be the one trying to hand it to him. Gabriel's preferences take priority, now that the bond is out of the equation. 

"There's an age gap," Anna explains. "I don't think they mind each other, not that they've had much contact. Castiel is Gabriel's little brother; they have different mothers, so they aren't close. They see eye to eye on free will, though." Anna sounds sincere. "Sam, come on. It's not going to go away. Castiel isn't going away, not until he's had the opportunity to see you and decide whether he wants you or not." Anna puts a hand on Sam's arm, pulling him with her ever so gently. 

They walk through the labyrinth of corridors to yet another suite of rooms. "I'm going in there with you," Anna informs him. "We're not taking any chances."

 _Afraid of a law suit_ , Sam thinks. Sam doesn't know whether it's his pre-law course and his previous affiliation with Stanford that make the Alliance assume that Sam's ready to jump into court at the tiniest opportunity. Sam was hurt by one of their clients, and this is America. The Alliance has a reputation to uphold after all. Not too shiny after the Lucifer catastrophe, and they can't afford anything tarnishing their shiny surface any further. Lucifer will surely do his best. He's vengeful., Sam is sure.

Anna stops. She takes something from the pocket in her fashionable two-piece suit. "Take this." She presses a small device—nothing but a small, flat box with a button on it—into his hand.

Sam holds it up, studying it suspiciously. "What is it?"

"I'll be in _there_ ," she says and points at a door a bit further down the hall. "It's a separate room, but it has a one-way mirror. I can see everything, and I will stop anything that looks remotely as if you're not comfortable with it. If you need security to come in instantly, press that button." She fiddles with the seam of her jacket. "Try not to use it. I know I said that I know Lucifer, and I was wrong. Castiel... I don't know him so well, but he hasn't deserved to be treated badly because Lucifer didn't adhere to our rules."

Anna doesn't mention that Sam didn't exactly mind the rules, either, meeting Lucifer outside the premises. "I promise."

"Good. And good luck." She squeezes his hand briefly. A smile flutters across her mouth like a little bird before it disappears. "I hope Castiel will be exactly what you look for."

She leaves him to go to the hidden room. As the door closes behind her, Sam is already lost in thought. No, Castiel isn't going to be what he wants, but he might be what Sam is looking for. What he _needs_. Two out of three ain't bad. Except it _is_ bad, because Castiel isn't Lucifer. With a feeling of dread Sam raises his hand to turn the doorknob. His stomach churns painfully. There are no butterflies of excitement and anticipation, just disappointment. Filled with pent-up desperation and desire for another man, this feels so very, very wrong. It feels as if Sam's entire being is mourning the mate that is lost to him. Tonight he will take another mate, and it is killing him that he has to touch another alpha. 

Despite the impossibility of it, Sam still wants Lucifer. Oh, he wants him so badly. Sam would give almost anything to be in his arms again, to feel those kisses burning on his skin. Sam's hand is shaking, hovering in the air, half way between love and heartbreak. Maybe he can still flee? He can hunt by himself. He'll have to, for he can't ever look Dean and Gabriel in the eye again if he makes a Houdini. Then Sam snorts, annoyed with his own reluctance, bracing himself for the inevitable. Of course it's not an option to disappear and become a lone hunter. Sam is mating for his family's sake, for Adam's sake, and for the pack they're creating. And first and foremost he is mating for his own sake. He will _never_ become Lucifer's mated slave. Being free matters. Adam's and Dean's happiness and the happiness that comes with being safe in a pack led by a good pack alpha... _that_ matters. 

Despite his reluctance and his escape-fantasies, Sam's _is_ okay with it. He came to terms with the mating part days ago, before he even met Lucifer. Now Sam is looking forward to an entire life, dealing with his longing for another man. It's misery at its worst, but it is still worth it. Nothing beats freedom. Suddenly Sam pities his suitor. It's a cruel destiny that awaits Castiel Nadanos, too. He'll live his life with a mate who will never love and cherish him the way he should be loved.

If Castiel Nadanos wants to take Sam as his mate, of course. He has a choice, too. Sam cannot allow himself to take the blame for Castiel's misery. That's the point of the free will that Sam appreciates so much. Castiel has to take responsibility for his own choices.

Instead Sam decides that instant that he will take responsibility for Castiel's happiness. If Castiel is the kind of alpha Anna says he is, they might be able to build a life together that won't break them both.

Only one way to find out. Sam turns the doorknob and opens the door, nauseous for a moment, only to stand face to face with the most handsome man he has ever seen. The door half-open, the other man's hand on the inside doorknob, Sam takes in Castiel's appearance in a glance. He's all strong jaw and sexy stubble and lean, muscular limbs. And strong, clearly, as Sam isn't able to move the door one inch. 

Surprising.

"I was of the distinct understanding that you were supposed to be here at six," Castiel Nadanos says, voice all rough and stubbly too. "I thought perhaps that you had declined my offer without seeing me. It has been known to happen."

The stark nakedness of Castiel's neutral formality and the tinge of insecurity hit Sam harder than he thought it would. Yeah, Castiel is weird, Anna was right about that. But he is also attractive and strong and not at all douchebag-y. Then again, neither was Lucifer, not until later. "Sorry," Sam says. "Maybe we should, like, go inside. Unless you want our er- date to take place in the middle of the corridor?"

Eyes widen and the expressionless face turns curious. Castiel looks up at Sam, all big eyes and this little tilt of the head that makes him look like a confused owl. Sam frowns. It's strangely adorable. At least nothing bad can be said about Castiel Nadanos' attractiveness. The guy's as far from ugly as can be. But again, weird.

"No, I do not think that would be appropriate." It takes a second before Castiel realizes that he needs to step away from the door, maybe even letting go of the doorknob. "If you would like to come inside?" Castiel finally lets go of the door and leads the way into a cozy room. It's furnished with chairs only and not a love seat in sight.

It's a relief not to be forced into some kind of closeness by help of furniture. The torn bond to Lucifer is making Sam feel slightly repulsed being in Castiel's close proximity, even though the man is handsome. It's a strange contrast to the attraction Sam feels too, as if Sam's mind is fighting a battle of its own. Sam sinks down in one of the comfortable chairs. The soft wool feels calming and warm. Castiel isn't threatening or dominant, and Sam relaxes, tense shoulders falling. He wishes that he had a drink. Or an entire bottle of something with a fairly high percentage of alcohol. 

Castiel steps around the low coffee table and takes the chair farthest away from Sam. "Thank you for coming, Sam." Castiel's eyes still have that questioning, innocent look. "Anna told me what happened to you, and I am pleased that you have granted me the honor, despite the trauma my brother caused you. As Anna might have told you, I-" Castiel hesitates, maybe wondering if he has said too much. No, probably not. The guy is just really weird, Sam decides, and not at all trying to fit in or be coherent. "I am in need of a mate," Castiel says." I wish to leave my father's pack. I have particular wishes, and some omegas might not find in me what they are looking for. As I am unmated, it is clear that I did not find in them what I was l searching for, either."

Sam likes the honesty. "So you're going to settle for Lucifer's cast-offs?" he reciprocates. There is no reason not to be honest. It could have saved Sam a lot of distress, had Lucifer been as honest with himself. That way they'd never have met. 

"Cast-offs?" For the first time Castiel smiles, and there it is, underneath the polish, that glimpse of predator, of strong alpha. "I am of the clear notion that it was you who cast Lucifer out, and not the other way around. I admire that—an omega willing to stand his ground, to stand up for himself." Castiel's expression turns serious again. "Lucifer certainly does not appreciate omega emancipation and liberated omegas the way they are meant to be appreciated. Funny that, seeing how he insists on having his own free will intact and unquestioned." Castiel holds up a hand, stopping Sam from speaking. "But let's not speak of my brother. I fear it causes you pain, and I would not want this meeting to be unnecessarily painful for you."

Strangely touched, Sam nods. "Thanks, Castiel." Leaning forward, hands in his lap, Sam looks at Castiel, trying to see behind the facade of innocence, look deeper, look for that flash of teeth and kills and death he saw only for an instant. "Excuse me for being direct, but once burned... You have been informed? That I'm not a nice little omega bitch who's going to roll over for you at your command? I'm not your bitch to breed and keep barefoot and pregnant. My brother is going to run a pack with Gabriel and me, I'm going to be second in command to the pack alpha couple, and I-

"I do not wish to breed you against your will," Castiel hurries to interject. "Or to keep you in the kitchen. I do make a culinary satisfying sandwich myself; I am adequately educated in the art of producing edible food."

Sam frowns, then chuckles. "Is that a complicated way to tell me you'll do the cooking? Just so you know it, I like proper food, not just meat and grease."

"I won't do it every day, no. Maybe we could share? I don't mind making dinner most of the time, though. I like cooking." Castiel smiles. "Does that mean that you're not adverse to enter into this agreement with me, since we're already discussing how to do the chores?"

"Does that mean that you're not adverse to taking me as your mate?" Sam asks, relieved that Castiel actually is an okay guy. "I don't have a choice, Castiel. I have refused two offers, and if you want me, I will have to accept."

"And if you had a choice? Would you refuse me?"

It takes Sam perhaps half a minute to decide. "No. I wouldn't." He makes a small smile, more relaxed now that he has seen that Castiel is much more like how Sam imagined his alpha to be. "I mean, after what happened with-" He has to pause. The pain of separation hits him again, hard. Collecting his dignity, Sam breathes in, trying to still his frantically beating heart. "After what happened with your brother, I'm more or less fucked no matter what. I don't have to explain to you what a severed bond means or how painful it is." Sam rubs his cheek, still distraught. "I could do a lot worse than you, I guess. You know about the bond, and you still wanted to see me. That counts for something. So, yeah, I'm sure. If I had a choice, I wouldn't refuse you."

"I'm giving you that choice, Sam." Castiel looks serious, grave. "I find you attractive and honest. You offer what I need: a pack that supports your way of life, one that I, too, prefer. It makes me free to be myself, and not my father's creation, fourth in a line of alphas who do not support me or my wishes." Castiel points at the door behind him. "If you want to decline my offer, you may leave. I will tell Anna that I refused you, and none will be the wiser. You will still have your third offer. Another offer. If you do not refuse me, I believe it would be sensible to take you as my mate. It will not be easy for us, but I have confidence in you, Sam Winchester."

Sam looks from Castiel to the door that symbolizes his temporary freedom. Castiel is actually giving him this? The freedom of choice? Only Sam is not going to refuse, now that he can. He is not leaving this beautiful and strong and weird alpha, only to switch to another—one who probably won't be anything like Castiel Nadanos. He has a choice and it's better than anything he had expected. For that, he is going to choose Castiel Nadanos.

"No," Sam says aloud. A flinch of pain flickers over Castiel's face. Sam hurries to clarify. "Not _no, I don't want your offer_. It' was a _no, I am not going to leave_. I will be honored to be your mate, Castiel." There. Sam has said it. He's going to be mated to a man he doesn't love, but a man, however, that he is at least remotely attracted to. And repulsed, thanks to the bond to Lucifer. Still Castiel is better than anything else Sam can hope for. 

A handsome mate.

A destiny set in stone. Freedom gone. 

And then again, maybe this is the first time that Sam has been truly free: mated to a capable, rich alpha Sam is untouchable, protected, even more so than he'd be, unmated, under Dean's rule. He's _taken_ now. And his mate has just promised him his freedom.

"Thanks, Castiel," Sam says, and means it. "It might not be what we dreamed about. Bonds, love..." Sam looks up at Castiel with sad eyes. "After Lucifer, I think that maybe it's better to be awake than to continue sleeping and dreaming."


	5. The Place of Your Sanctuary

This time formality goes before anything else, thank God. 

"You swear to me in front of witnesses that you will join my pack alpha's new pack and that you will stay there until we are asked to leave or until we both agree upon moving to another pack? You swear that you will let me have my freedom, and that you will never force me to breed with you?" Sam looks his alpha in the eye, looking for signs of deceit in Castiel's honest, open look. It makes Sam that it is necessary to force Castiel to agree to his wishes in this way. Better safe than sorry.

Castiel's eyes are sad, too. But Sam has learned from his mistake. Oh, Lord, has he learned!

"Yes. I swear." Castiel nods. "I will never force you to do anything against your will, Sam Winchester."

Sam breathes out. It's a done deal, then. He pulls closer the piece of paper in front of him and sells himself with the stroke of a pen.

Looking smug and satisfied as Sam puts down the heavy fountain pen, Zachariah surely is relieved to get rid of two of his most difficult clients in one go, and he's all smiles and warmth. It doesn't change the fact that Sam's mating to Castiel is little more than a business transaction, at least the pecuniary part. Castiel uses the same pen as he signs a check, handing it to Sam with an expressionless nod.

Sam doesn't look at it, but he knows that he is now a very, very rich man. There's a certain happiness to the fact that he can now pay off Adam's creditors, buying freedom for his younger brother. He likes this little slice of happiness he is allowed in this mess of matings and money. Carefully Sam folds the check and puts it in his wallet. Only then does he look at Castiel with a slight frown.

Castiel doesn't look particularly disturbed by the many zeroes he's just put on the small piece of paper. "My family is wealthy," he informs Sam, as if Sam hadn't figured that out, what with three brothers subscribing to the service, and with yet another two mated to Anna. 'Wealthy' doesn't cut it, Sam guesses.

"So what do we do now?" Sam ask. He gets up from the deep leather chair. It's new and smells delicious. Sam is glad that he can leave Zachariah's office, never to come back. "Cas?" 

"Cas?" Castiel inquires, curious, his mouth widening in a pleased smile. "Nobody has given me a nickname before."

"Well, you haven't had a mate before, either, dude. There's a first time for everything."

Cas blushes instantly, and Sam does have the decency to hide a sudden grin. He has a notion of what Castiel is thinking of, although with those looks, and an alpha, too... No, Cas can't possibly be a virgin still? Again the weirdness. With his weird innocence Cas might never have gotten to that particular exercise, despite being all alpha. It can't have been for the lack of volunteers—Cas truly is beautiful. Sam, however, doesn't want to think about their actual mating — oh, he'd like not to go there at all. But since it is inevitable—there will be no mating bite without a mating—Sam can just as well make the best of it. Cas is all he's going to get for the rest of his life. It makes it a little better that Castiel is no jaded sex god. Sam is not sure he'll be able to enjoy the physical aspect of their relationship and the last thing he'd need is someone who is trying to make it good for him out of some misunderstood goodness of their dick.

"We should go speak to your brother, my pack alpha. Inform them that we have reached an agreement."

"Or to your brother, my pack omega. Gabriel and Dean are equals." 

"I do not think Gabriel will be pleased. He has told me time and again that I am boring and has a stick-" Cas points at a spot behind himself. "I would prefer to speak with Dean."

Sam laughs, ignoring Zachariah who impatiently collects folders and documents as in not so many words to tell them to fuck off. Sam makes a show of gathering his and Castiel's copies of their mating contracts. Very, very slowly. Castiel's mouth twitches at the corners. Maybe he isn't as stiff and humorless as Gabriel thinks. It's just another and understated kind of humor, one Sam appreciates. Also, Sam thinks that Gabriel might prefer Cas to Lucifer any time. Dean will be happy for Sam, too, because Sam still chose Cas when he had a way out. At least somebody will be happy with Sam's choice of mate. Which is grand, since he can't seem to get there himself. Content, yes. Happy... not really. He doubts he will ever be.

Deciding to get the best out of what he has, he puts a hand on Cas's shoulder. The repulsion he experienced earlier is less prominent. Cas's skin is warm. It calms Sam to touch him. 

Cas eyes Sam's hand as if it is some kind of dangerous insect, perching on his shoulder, ready to sting. 

"Sorry," Sam says and removes his hand, not wanting to make Cas feel uncomfortable. 

"No, it's fine." Cas opens the door for Sam, and they walk out into the corridor, the door slamming shut between them. Sam can breathe a bit more easily now, Zach and the entire Alliance behind them. "You are not forced to touch me," Cas adds, a tinge of sadness in his voice. "You don't have to."

Sam, too, is hit by the same sadness. "It's not a chore," he says, not pretending that they aren't both aware of how the Lucifer-situation affects them both. "I do like you, you see. Otherwise I'd have taken the easy way out." He bites his lip, at a loss of how to explain himself. "Even though I'm... Lucifer's, I can still, you know... let you touch me."

"You offer me comfort?" Cas's eyes are sad. "Thanks, Sam, but that's not necessary. I am perfectly aware of the consequences of the choice I made."

Sam stops abruptly. "No! That's not what I said. I _like_ you, is that so hard to understand? If you don't like me touching you, say so. Otherwise see it as a friendly touch. I-" Sam crumbles faster than his mind can keep up. He leans against the wall, the heartache back. "We're pack. I need to touch you. I need to touch Dean. Gabriel, even. All of you. My pack." With Lucifer gone, Sam is starving for it. It's a sudden realization, but nonetheless an important one. He's drawn to Cas because he's pack now, and perhaps they should both be grateful that the ruined bond at least lets them have that. Sam reaches for Cas, his hand shaking. "Please, Cas?"

Castiel stops and turns, staring up at Sam, eyes penetrating and sharp, the innocence gone. "I swore to you that I would give you everything you need. You only have to ask." Cas reaches out, his hand on Sam's shoulder in the same fashion as Sam touched Cas only moments before. It lies there, almost burning hot. Reassuring. The pulsing heat aligns itself with Sam's heartbeat, slowing it down as he relaxes visibly, tension gone. 

"Thanks, alpha," he says quietly, grateful that his choice of mate was a good one. 

Cas squeezes his shoulder. "Don't thank me. It's your right, Sam. I'm your alpha, and my duty is to serve my omega, making sure his life is as good as I can possibly make it. I did not seek a mate to let him suffer when I could help him be content."

Castiel's tenderness does make it better. It makes everything better. It's never going to be good, Sam doesn't expect it to be, but it's enough.

It has to be enough.

It has to.

They walk hand in hand back to the hotel. Occasionally Cas's thumb slides over Sam's hand, calming him. There is nothing sexual about the touch, it's friendly reassurance from an alpha to his omega, nothing more. Sam's skin soaks up the tender touches; it's something small, but he's like a desert waiting for rain; every little drop of care he drinks down, thirsty for more. It's a thirst that can never be slaked, only Cas does his best, and Sam appreciates it. He tightens his grip around Cas's hand, an anchor in the sea of people going to and from jobs and shops and wives and lovers. Sam can't wait to get out of Detroit, back to the wilderness made up of small towns and patchy miles of blacktop.

Although he doesn't want to bring up Lucifer again, Sam can't stop himself from skating across that frozen pond. "I am proud to bring _you_ back to my pack alpha," Sam says, a small smile lights up his face as Cas's eyes crinkle at the corners in pleasure at his words. "Had it been Lucifer, I'd-" The realization is hard to stomach. Sam swallows before tells Castiel the truth of what his mating with Lucifer would have meant to him. "I'd have been ashamed." Not only would Sam have been ashamed, but he'd have brought conflict and strife into their pack. Dean and Lucifer would have been at each other's throats immediately. In that regard, the disaster that is Sam's failed bond isn't that much of a disaster. Dean surely is going to like Cas's quiet, strong demeanor. And Cas is no threat to Dean's rule since Dean will provide precisely what Cas is looking for: a pack based on free will and freedom for alphas _and_ omegas alike.

As they reach Sam's hotel, he pulls out his phone, sending Dean a text, asking whether he and Gabriel are decent. The answer to that is of course a no. Neither Dean, nor Gabriel go under that description. It's not in their programming but Sam doesn't want to walk in on them; there are limits. They are walking across the lobby as Dean's reply, a _Maybe. Why?_ beeps onto the screen. 

_I have someone I'd like you to meet,_ Sam replies, not elaborating. He wants to see Gabriel's face, the honest feelings, when he introduces his mate to the Gabriel and Dean. Sam doesn't want there to be any trouble, and if Gabriel has a problem being in a pack with Cas, they have to deal with it right away. Another difference between Castiel and his older brother. Sam is increasingly convinced that no one could have talked sense into Lucifer. Cas, on the other hand, is all sense and polite behavior. They can work it out. If not, the contract might be signed, but the mating has yet to happen, and Castiel is still able to make a dignified retreat. 

Sam ignores the reply as the phone vibrates in his pocket. There is nothing more to say, nothing that needs saying until Dean and Gabriel has accepted Sam's choice. He squeezes Castiel's hand as if to reassure him that it's going to be fine, that their relationship will be as good as Sam can possibly make it with the limitations that come when one's heart and soul are meant for another man. _We're an odd couple_ , Sam thinks, glancing at Cas at his side. He's a good half head taller than his alpha, and although Castiel surely is built, it's nothing compared to Sam's massive body. Cas looks small, but then again very few men don't, standing next to Sam. Castiel, at a first glance, is almost fragile with his handsome face and the deep eyes. It's deceptive, until Cas moves and the slide of muscle and tendons reveal a predator. If anyone takes Castiel for unassuming and weak, they'd be mistaken, sorely mistaken. Sam has looked into his eyes and seen the wolf there, so strong and calm. It's not a blatant alpha, but one who rests comfortably in what he is. Castiel has no urge to flash his power, no urge to compare it to the power of other alphas. Cas certainly isn't traditional. 

"Tradition can go fuck itself sidewards," Sam murmurs. 

"Sam?" Castiel stares up at him, hair a bit messy and the eyes clear and honest. Sam can't deny that he finds Castiel attractive. 

"Nothing." Luckily they're just a few steps from the entrance to the hotel. "We're here." Sam squints. "Are you nervous?"

"I-" Castiel shakes his head. "I would like your brother and mine to accept our mating. It is important to me that your brother, my new pack alpha, does not feel uncomfortable with my presence, and thus I need my brother to accept me as well. I was never on bad terms with Gabriel, however."

They're in the elevator when Sam breaks. Castiel's palm is damp in his hand, wet with sweat and nerves. Sam breathes in slowly and exhales, trying to get himself under control. He's on the verge of crying. He leans against the wall, looking at the display. He counts with it. 18. 19. 20.

"Shhh," Castiel says, his voice low and calm. "It'll be all right. I'm not going to fight Dean, and if he tries—" Castiel pauses, as if he's not sure he should continue. 

Sam forgets that he's nervous. "He doesn't. He will respect my choice and you have sworn already that you will accept him as your pack alpha." Sam tilts his head as the elevator reaches their floor and the doors open with a soft _woosh_. "But _if_ he tried?" Sam asks, not inclined to leave the elevator.

"The Detroit pack is very competitive. I was not fourth in rank by mistake. But I begin to think it was a mistake that I didn't fight my way to lead my former pack, although I do not want that kind of power. It might be my fault, at least partly, that Lucifer is so strong."

Sam groans. It was a mistake to make Castiel reply. Of _course_ someone had to mention Lucifer. The name is as good as a knife to the heart and Sam almost stumbles out of the elevator. And Castiel did not give an appropriate answer to the question. "What do you mean?"

"Sam." Castiel's dark voice yanks him back to reality. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have mentioned him. You asked." Castiel's hand rests lightly on Sam's shoulder. "What I was trying to say is that I've fought enough for dominance to know that only Lucifer, Gabriel and my other brother Michael are able to fight me and win. Barely. I am, however, done fighting a civil war inside my pack. I will stand my ground, but no more."

It's not Castiel's fault. Sam should have known that asking about Cas's former pack was to ask about Lucifer, seeing that he was the one fighting to lead it. It still hurts like hell, speaking of his bondmate. His former bondmate. "Gabriel?" Sam asks instead. "He beat you? That is as unlikely as snow in June. Your brother is an omega. And he's like two feet tall. Or is this another Gabriel we're talking about?"

To Sam's surprise, Castiel laughs at him. He puts his hand on Sam's chest. Castiel's hand looks very small as it rests there, steady and warm. "Sure. And it is common knowledge that omegas are fragile little bitches that need protection and care. Honestly, Sam?"

Sam can't help it. He, too, laughs. It chases the pain away, and by God if Castiel isn't right. It's just not that nice to be called out on his own inherent prejudice. "You better protect me then, if your brother is as badass as you say."

"Why do you think he hasn't been married off until now? Sam, Gabriel fought every stupid alpha who refused to understand that no meant no. And clearly, as Gabriel managed to stay unmated until he met Dean, Gabriel _won_. Hundreds of fights."

"Wow." Sam hadn't thought that it was possible. A fighting omega? One fighting for dominance and leadership? "A bit embarrassing, I mean, for alphas..."

"If you believe that biology should matter, perhaps. If not, your pack has just won one of our world's strongest warriors. Gabriel was my father's general. Until Gabriel decided that enough was enough, and he let Michael and Raphael hire Zachariah to find him a proper alpha so he could get away from Detroit. He likes to pretend that he did it under pressure, but I suspect he felt like I did. We simply wanted to get the hell out of Dodge. Or Detroit, if you prefer."

Cleverly shutting his mouth so that no more biased crap comes out of it, Sam decides not to say anything until he's back with Dean. It makes it easier to think, having Dean supporting him. 

Outside the door to Dean's and Gabriel's room, Sam hesitates. He needs to trust his mate the same way he trusts his brother. He needs to believe that Castiel has been honest with him. He needs to believe that Castiel wants what Sam has to offer and he needs to believe that Dean is going to accept his choice. "Okay," Sam whispers. "I'm ready."

Castiel knocks, twice, two hard, determined raps on the door. 

"Is that you, Sammy?"

"Yeah. You dressed?" Sam sends Castiel a halfway shy grin. Castiel can see for himself how embarrassing Dean and Gabriel behave. The risk is that they are all over each other with or, more likely, without clothes. Sam hopes for the first. Now, talk about awkward if they are actually naked.

"Duh!" Gabriel's voice. "You called and asked us to dress, dude!"

The door is ripped open. "What's the matter with you, kiddo? You're unusual-" Gabriel's jaw stops somewhere between his chest and the floor. He closes his mouth with a smack. "Castiel? The fuck?" Gabriel looks Castiel over, saying nothing. Gabriel turns around, walking over to Dean without a word. 

Sam is too surprised to be angry or devastated by Gabriel's refusal to acknowledge Castiel's presence with more than a mention of his name.

Castiel simply stands there, waiting for the impact. 

"Dude," Gabriel exclaims, looking at Dean. "Your kid bro just scored himself the hottest alpha in the entire US. Besides you, clearly. Also, he's my kid brother, but don't let that put you off. He's totally weird and boring, but he's cool. And hot."

"You are _not_ crushing on my brother's alpha, you little shit," Dean growls and kisses Gabriel briefly and very, very possessively. "God, you're such an ass."

"You love it," Gabriel laughs and shoos Dean in the direction of Sam and Castiel. "And my ass. Go say something nice to your new wolfie, Deano."

Dean doesn't move. "Is it true, Sam? That's your mate? Did he agree to the terms?" Dean's mental hackles are slightly raised, Sam can feel it; Dean is not calming down until the situation that he has no control over is under his control. There are times when Dean is annoyingly alpha. 

"I'm Castiel Nadanos. And yes, I agreed to everything Sam asked of me. And I will continue to do so." Castiel takes two steps in Dean's direction, quick enough to be assertive, slow enough not to be aggressive. "I believe in free will. The main cause," Castiel looks over his shoulder at Sam, "except for this obvious and very handsome cause, for joining your pack." He nods, looking to the side, a small move, barely enough to constitute a baring of his neck. "Alpha."

"Oh, stop the territorial marking before one of you pisses on the furniture." Gabriel steps in between them, grabbing Castiel, slinging one arm around his waist. "Long time, no see. How've you been, kiddo?"

"In Detroit."

"Says it all, doesn't it? But you're saved now, Cassie. Dean will be good to you, and if he isn't, you kick his ass. I promise I won't interfere. Or maybe I will. He's got such a nice ass; it'd be a pleasure to kick it."

"Gabriel, stop. You disrespect your pack alpha." Castiel tries to pull out of Gabriel's embrace. Against his will Sam can't help laughing, which makes Cas look even more prissy and entirely adorable at the same time. Some alpha he's got himself. Yeah, he's adorable as well as strong and pretty.

"I think I like him," Dean finally says. "I need help, keeping my omega respectful and obedient," he grins; they all know that it's impossible, even if Dean wanted it. Which he doesn't. "So, Castiel? Cas?"

Visibly relaxing, Castiel nods."Cas is fine. Not from anyone else, though."

"Cas, then. Want a beer? We should celebrate and they have some good stuff here, some artsy douche-brew, but it tastes great."

The tension in the room dissolves and Cas nods. "I would like that."

Sam can't keep himself from grinning like a loon. Castiel and Dean seems to hit it off immediately, both their heads stuck half-way into the small fridge, pulling out bottles as Dean explains to Cas what's what in the world of douche-y Detroit microbrew. It went better than he'd dreamed of. Or maybe it's just because Castiel is nothing like Lucifer. The thought makes Sam sigh. 

"It's gonna work, Sammy. Give it time." Gabriel appears at Sam's side, elbowing him gently. "Cas... you know you really did well. Didn't think Cas would ever take a mate, but I'm glad he did. Haven't spoken to him for years, but I like him. And those two?" Gabriel nods in Dean's and Cas's direction. "You wouldn't think that they are both powerful alphas, would you?"

"No." Sam eyes his brother and his new mate with affection. "It's going to work." Sam takes a breath, holding it before he admits quietly, that, "He's not Lucifer. I really like him. I'm glad that he took me. It's gonna be good for our pack, I guess. Lucifer..." It takes all Sam has to admit it: "Lucifer would have torn it apart, ruined us. I am still bound to him, body and soul, but he would have destroyed me with love, erased everything I am with tenderness."

"Yes," Gabriel says, as if it's all there is to say about it. "He would."

Castiel stops what he's doing and looks at Sam. "I swear that I will help you recover. You and the pack," he declares, making it sound like yet another vow.

"Thank you," Sam simply says, knowing that no matter how hard it is, he has made the right decision.

They order room service and eat dinner together; beers and steaks and some fruity dessert that Gabriel wants. It's nice and cozy and _familial_ , and Sam can feel it in his bones how they bond as a pack, already brothers and friends. Dean seems to have taken to Castiel to a degree that makes Sam almost jealous. Castiel seems to be attuned to Sam's needs. When Sam is moping secretly over the fact that Cas and Dean are laughing about something that Sam didn't hear, Castiel's hand finds its way to Sam's, stroking it softly. It makes Sam relax again. He likes Castiel's touch; it's his alpha reassuring him, and it works. At least that's one thing about their annoying biology and instincts that Sam doesn't mind.

It's late before Cas pulls Sam back to the slightly unpleasant reality. "If you'll excuse me for a moment," he says, as he lets go of Sam to stand up. Cas grabs the phone to the hotel's reception. Sam closes his eyes as he hears Castiel book a suite for them. 

For their mating.

Sam knows it's inevitable. They can postpone it indeterminably, but the snag is that he won't be safe, not truly safe before Castiel's mark and scent are on his body. Also, it needs to be done to fulfill the second part of the contract. Revulsion surges through Sam. The thought of someone else mating with him, someone who isn't Lucifer is intolerable. Sam is repulsed, too, by the thought of mating with Lucifer, by the mere idea that he wants him so badly. Despite the tattered remains of their unformed bond Sam can't ignore that Lucifer is a cheating bastard, a power-mad, childish, spoiled idiot: the worst alpha to ever walk the earth. It makes Sam feel sick that he still wants his bondmate so badly. 

Nauseous by the thought, Sam knows that he has to fight his disgust. It is an act that they, Castiel and he, are going to perform. It makes is worse that Sam actually likes Castiel so much. It makes it worse that Castiel is kind and attractive. It is worse because Sam can't find it in him to want Castiel Nadanos. 

Sam doesn't want to hurt the alpha who saved him. Not for anything in the world. And he's not sure that he can stop himself from doing exactly that. 

A bellboy knocks on the door, delivering the key on a polished steel platter. Sam stands, ready to get it over with. It almost breaks him when Dean hugs him and Gabriel sends him a look of pity. 

Dean puts a hand on Castiel's arm, stopping him from leaving. "Careful. Both of you."

"Yes, alpha." Castiel nods. "I will always treat Sam with respect," he says quietly. "I'll be careful."

Sam knows why. Alphas aren't always gentle during the first mating. But the thing is, Sam trusts Cas not to make it unnecessarily unpleasant. Neither want this semi-forced mating, and Sam is sure that they'd both want to postpone it were it not for the threat that is still out there and the contract that isn't completed without the mating bite. They need this to secure the pack. 

Castiel holds out his hand for Sam to take. It shakes almost invisibly, but Sam sees it, sees how nervous Castiel is. If nothing else, Sam can help Castiel get over that. He squeezes Cas's hand, not letting go. "Please?" Sam says, calming down too, by the touch of his alpha. "I'm fine. Let's, erm..."

"Yes." Castiel's eyes are wide and shy at the same time, so uncharacteristically alpha that Sam is the one who is pulling Castiel with him out the door.

Their suite is luxurious. The bed is gigantic: a castle of white silk and polished mahogany. Placed on a dais, it is a relic from the time when an alpha's claiming of his omega was a public spectacle. Sam secretly thanks a few deities that it is no longer so. He is very sure that neither he, nor Castiel would be able to perform their duty under the scrutinizing eyes of their alpha couple.

"Let's get it over with." It doesn't come out right. "I'm sorry," Sam apologizes. "It's not that I don't find you attractive; you are probably the most beautiful man I have ever seen. More than... him." Sam is tense. He doesn't want to talk about Lucifer in the bedroom.

"I understand. I don't expect anything from you." Castiel sounds sad and tired. "Would you like a shower first?"

Of course he does. It might make him relax. It gives him time to prepare mentally for what is to happen. He will need that, because his entire being suddenly recoils from Castiel's presence, as if they are both under some kind of reverse magnetism, pushing them apart. Despite Castiel's appealing looks, Sam can't make himself want his new mate. He is sure that he won't be able to let Castiel inside his body, not without lengthy preparation, and Sam prefers to prepare alone. It would make their coupling so much worse if he had to lie spread out on their bed, letting Castiel do it. 

There is lube in the bathroom cabinet. Sam places it within reach from the shower. He makes it quick. Sam dries himself, trying not to think about Castiel touching him. He gives up holding back the tears as he breaches himself, thrusting two fingers inside, easing the way for the alpha his body and mind reject. It takes some time and considerable amounts of lubrication to ensure that he will not be hurt by Castiel's knot. When Sam is done, he is dripping with tears and oil, caught up in disgust with himself and with the act that is to come. No matter how much he likes Castiel, no matter how handsome the alpha is, it's not helping. 

Nothing is. 

Refusing to cover up his emotions, Sam returns to the suite. Cas has used the other bathroom, and he's naked apart from his boxer-briefs. Castiel truly is handsome, not that Sam is able to appreciate it; he has enough to do, convincing himself that he has to let Castiel take him to bed. If only Cas would hurry and get it over with, Sam would be grateful.

The part of Sam's brain that is still able to carry a sensible line of thought appreciates that Castiel is quick. He helps Sam on the bed, supporting him as he turns his back to Cas, removing the towel that he has slung around his hips in an attempt to hang on to his suffering modesty. "I'm ready. Could you just... go on, please?"

Behind Sam, Castiel pulls down his boxer-briefs, from what little Sam can see, not bothering to take them off. He just uncovers enough to do the job. There's a click from the lid of a bottle and it sounds so loud in the small pieces of silence that is made up of the pauses between breathing and the rustle of sheets. 

"I'm sorry," Castiel repeats and puts his hand on Sam's hip, stroking it gently as he works to get himself hard. 

Sam wishes that Castiel would stop touching him. He does not want mercy or pity or tenderness right now. He just wants it to be _over_!

There are hands on his ass and a dull pain as Castiel pushes inside, maybe sensing that it's the only thing he can do as not to make their mating worse. Sam clenches his fists so hard that he breaks a nail. It's a blessed pain that pulls his attention away from the slow push into his ass. Sam gasps and lets his mind wander, a grave mistake.

Unbidden images flood it. Lucifer's eyes. His hands, his handsome smile. The messy hair, the dominant, sexy way he moved. "Fuck," Sam groans into the pillows, pushing back to make Castiel move. It's not pleasant; Castiel moves like an automaton, mechanical, dispassionate thrusts into Sam's ass. It's humiliating and disgusting. Sam has let men fuck him before, men he wasn't in love with, that was okay, it was mutual pleasure. Being fucked, knotted and mated by Castiel is not the same. God, it's so very far from. 

Castiel doesn't enjoy it much more than Sam does. The thrusts continue, Castiel silent except for the intake and exhale of air that come a little faster as Castiel's semi-limp dick hardens more. Sam is crying, small sobs of revulsion, when Castiel's knot finally catches the rim of his hole. Castiel freezes for a few seconds, then helps Sam down to lie flat, knot and dick locked deep into his oil-and-semen-smeared channel. 

"I'm sorry, Sam," Castiel whispers again, and Sam wants to hit him. If Cas would just shut the fuck up and bite him, so that the deed was done! Tilting his head to one side, Sam makes Castiel understand that he is ready, as willing as can be when their mating mainly is to ensure that Sam is kept safe from other alphas, and from Lucifer in particular.

The memory of Lucifer, the knowledge that Sam could have had Lucifer in his bed, reaffirming their bond, makes Sam fall apart at the seams. He doesn't want to come, but Castiel chooses that exact moment to place his mating bite on Sam's shoulder. The pain and the constant pulsing of semen between Sam's legs in combination with Sam's longing for his bondmate do it. 

"Lucifer," Sam moans into the pillows, coming in a haze of guilt and weak pleasure, his semen smeared between the sheets and his thighs. 

Above him Castiel makes a pained gasp. Sam wants to turn around and comfort his mate. Sam never intended to hurt Castiel. But he can't move, not as long as they are locked together, and he can do nothing but to feel ashamed. Sam forces himself to think about their new pack, how good it will be, how wonderful it is that Dean is so happy with his mate. Sam thinks about the large house they are going to build. It'll be an over-sized hunting lodge with furs and sturdy furniture and a fireplace where they can cuddle up on deep, luxurious couches. He imagines them lying on the golden, wooden floor in wolf form, enjoying the warmth of the hearth. It's going to be great, not having to worry about how they are going to make ends meet. They'll be able to buy what they need: books, furniture, laptops, a car for him so that he doesn't have to depend on Dean driving them. He has seen a Dodge he would like, and Sam looks forward to the discussion he'll have with Dean when Dean's trying to talk him into buying some classic car that Dean can tinker with. Sam can do both now. A new Dodge and a classic. 

Another gushing of thin fluid between his legs drags him back to reality and to the sharp pain of the bite on his neck. Luckily, Castiel's knot deflates quickly. Sam can't take it much longer.

Finally Castiel is able to pull out, and Sam's ass is smeared with more come as the fluid locked in by Cas's knot is allowed a way out. He can hardly hold back yet another sob as he lies there, fucked open, with Castiel's semen all over his body. 

It should have been Lucifer. He should have been Lucifer's. 

Damn it, it should have been Lucifer! 

"Sorry... I'm so sorry." Castiel's voice is rough with emotion. "Sam... please. Are you all right?"

Wiping away the tears, Sam sniffles. "Me too. Sorry. I couldn't... I couldn't stop thinking of him. You didn't deserve that."

"It doesn't matter." Castiel reluctantly reaches out to touch Sam where he bit him. He stops, the tip of his fingers a few inches from the bite.

"You can touch it." Strangely enough Sam likes the idea of Castiel's fingers on his skin, confirming the mark. The idea doesn't create the same disgust as Sam felt earlier. Maybe the mating actually made a difference. 

Brushing the tips of his fingers across the wound, Sam shudders. It's not entirely unpleasant.

Castiel looks down at him with a frown. "I won't. I won't touch it again."

"No, that's not... You can do it if you want." Another light brush makes Sam relax a little. He's sore and tense, but the light strokes are calming. "I think I'm okay with you touching me there. It's... It's nice."

"I should fetch a washcloth and clean you up," Castiel says.

It isn't as if Sam wouldn't want that. He would like to shower. Preferably for hours. He feels dirty and he stinks of sweat and semen. "Wouldn't it defy the purpose of the mating?" he asks, knowing the answer. It's crucial that his alpha's scent is imprinted on him. He can't shower until morning, but he'll take the traditional cleaning of his intimate parts over nothing. "Yes, please." Although Sam finds it too intimate and too embarrassing; he'd rather be remotely clean than to lie in his own sweat, stinking of a mate he doesn't want. Despite his usual disregard for traditions, Sam finds himself wanting to let Cas do it. This will be his only mating, and maybe later Sam will regret having denied Castiel more than the bare bones of it. Letting Castiel take care of him now... It will be fine. 

Back with a bowl of hot water and a cloth, Sam pushes the covers off, ready to endure his mate's touch. 

Castiel is quiet as he gently cleans Sam. He dries him off with a soft towel, making no attempt on further intimacy. It's almost clinical, which makes it both better and worse. Sam tryingly touches Castiel's knee. "Thank you."

"It's my duty," Castiel replies, getting out of the bed, folding the dirty linen and placing it on the floor. It should have been Sam doing that, providing comfort for his alpha, but that's too late now. Sam makes no attempts to cover himself, he is not self-conscious about his body, and it doesn't bother him now that Castiel sees him. Sam is mated, and it's his mate's right to see him naked — one right that Sam won't deny him. They are _were_. They can't cover themselves up all the time. Despite everything, Sam would like to run in the woods with Cas in their wolf form, showing him how to hunt. 

A pile of fresh linen and comforters is placed conveniently close to the bed. Castiel grabs some clean sheets and comforters and covers Sam up. The lavender-scented linen feels great. Sam feels better too. Castiel just stands there, watching Sam as if he's thinking. Sam pulls the covers up around his shoulders, suddenly feeling empty and alone in the huge bed. 

"I should go." Castiel points at the door to the suite's other bedroom. "At least it's done. You're as safe as we can make you. I'm-"

"If you say you're sorry again, I don't know what I'm gonna do," Sam growls, suddenly annoyed with Cas; annoyed with everything. He sits up. "Don't be stupid. Get down here. I refuse to let my alpha and mate sleep alone on his mating night." Sam knows it's right: it feels right. It's comfort, not sex. It's touching and bonding as pack members. He can do that. Damned, he _wants_ to. It's like holding Cas's hand: it feels right and it's pleasant and it doesn't trigger those sparks of discomfort and revulsion that the more intimate touches do. 

Castiel stares. The confused owl expression again. "Are you certain, Sam?"

Sam pulls the comforter to one side and _growls_. 

"I'm sor-"

"Shut up." Sam unceremoniously grabs his mate's hand and pulls him down into the bed. "Sleep." He moves closer to Cas, wanting the warmth and care now that their forced copulation is over. 

"Thank you, Sam." Castiel doesn't protest any further, nor does he apologize when Sam snuggles up to him, only a thin sheet between them.

Maybe they are going to be all right after all. Not in love or bondmates. With his body and soul tied to Lucifer, they can never be. But they can be friends. Sam would like that. And the last thing Sam thinks before he falls into a blessedly deep sleep is that he really, really likes Castiel.


	6. From the Wilderness and This Lebanon

Castiel, however, might not share the sentiment. When Sam wakes up, Castiel is already up and dressed. He sits in a chair in the suite's living room, barely looking at Sam as he enters. Sam pulls his robe closer, suddenly cold. "Morning, Cas."

"Sam." Castiel returns to the folders he is reading, obviously indifferent to Sam's presence. 

Good thing there's a chair not too far away, for Sam feels nauseous. He slides down carefully, supporting himself on the armrests. He's still sore. His body is sore, his heart is sore and his mind is refusing to play nicely. Castiel's callous, cold greeting is more than Sam can handle. Castiel got what he wanted, and now he is nothing to him? Sam bites his lip as not to scream. Is it really possible that he could have made yet another grave mistake? Is Castiel really no different from Lucifer? Sam doesn't want to believe it; he was so sure Cas was different.

"That's all you have to say to me?" he asks quietly. "Really, Castiel?" Anger and sadness are fighting for dominance. Anger wins and Sam lashes out, because he doesn't want to be the only one hurting. "You know, I actually thought you were a decent person. Well played, alpha."

Cas puts down the folder on the desk. He meticulously aligns it with the edge of it. "You did your duty to me, that is all I required of you."

"Oh, good. You got what you paid for, then." Sneering at Castiel, Sam gets up again, wincing as he is reminded of what, precisely, it is that Castiel's money bought him. "To think I believed your lies." Narrow-eyed, he stares Castiel down, waiting for his mate to look at him. "I am not your whore. I am not going with you to the Detroit pack. I am _never_ going to-"

"Sam?" Castiel is up from the chair, moving to stand in front of Sam so fast it's almost impossible that any were can move so fast. Sam stares into Castiel's eyes, as he stares back at him. Castiel's expression is one of disbelief. "What makes you think I'd go back to the pack I'm trying to get away from? Your deductive abilities are remarkably poor."

"Yeah, I understand that. I'm _omega_. I'm not worth anythi-"

"No!" Anger turns Castiel's face cold, a tense, disgusted expression. The gentle Cas is gone. Castiel straightens up, stepping forward like an animal on the prowl. Sam can almost smell the power he exudes. "You know precisely what you are worth, Sam, and so do I. You stood up to my older brother. You fought for your future. You insisted on controlling your life, refusing anyone to make those choices for you. Your value has nothing to do with the dowry I paid." Castiel's temper flares this once, then dies down, the outburst merely a flash of lighting on an otherwise blue sky. It's gone as quickly as it appeared. "I merely did not wish to impose any kind of unwanted familiarity or intimacy on you," Castiel says. "Not until I was sure what you were willing to allow me."

"So you treated me like shit and left me? Oh, thank you very much. That was so helpful. You know, exactly what I needed after our mating."

"I do not know what you want, Sam. Except for Lucifer, obviously, you made that clear, even during our mating." Castiel is hurt, Sam can see it now. Castiel looks down, as if he has exposed himself unwillingly. "But I am not Lucifer, nor can I give you him." He looks up again, this time his eyes are clear and soft. "You are mine now, and I am yours. I went willingly, but perhaps you should consider that you are not the only one hurting."

Castiel _did_ hear Sam whispering Lucifer's name; there is no reason to hide. "I didn't mean for you to hear it." Sam can't even begin to explain. How can he apologize for thinking of Lucifer during their mating ritual? Sam can't apologize for something he doesn't regret — he's not sure he could have gone through their mating, knot and all, if he hadn't allowed himself to dream of the man he longs for. "I'm really sorry," Sam says, knowing that he can apologize, at least, for saying Lucifer's name aloud. "I didn't mean to... say his name."

"Maybe one day," Castiel replies almost inaudibly. "Maybe one day you'll be with _me_. Maybe one day you will say my name."

"I hope so. I truly hope so." Sam's heart bleeds for Castiel; he really had been sold a wolf pup when he asked for Sam instead of an omega who would be able to love him. Castiel had been allowed a brief look into the poke, and now that he's got a better view, he doesn't like what he sees. 

"I won't bother you again," Castiel says, and his face is utterly expressionless. "With another mating, I mean. Maybe I can offer you some coffee instead?" His lips curl at the corners. It's a small smile. "A peace offering."

"Yes... Please." Sam sits down at Castiel's desk. He would like coffee. Also he would like to know wether Castiel is disappointed because he was truly hoping for more, for that which Sam cannot give him. "I'm sorry that I can't be the mate that you deserve."

"I understand. I do. I did not walk into this with my eyes closed, Sam. You were bonding with Lucifer, and I swore never to ask anything of you that you were not willing to give. Even if you were my mate in more than name, I'd never ask you to mate or breed or... anything you did not want. I'm your alpha, not your owner."

Of course Cas doesn't understand. How could he? He tries, though, Sam is willing to give him that. Castiel's honest attempts are reassuring, warming Sam's broken and cold heart. Sam decides on the spot that will pay Cas back for his kindness and patience; he will pay Castiel back with everything he is able to give. Sam can offer care and friendship. He can offer his allegiance, his faith. Sam puts his hand over Castiel's "So... can we be friends, at least?"

Castiel nods and pulls his hand away, staying it only long enough as not to let Sam see it as a rejection. Cas reaches for the coffee pot. "Yes. I'd like that. Friends."

They meet in the lobby, Gabriel the only one in a bright mood. Dean eyes Sam suspiciously, as if he's expecting Sam to come apart because he went to bed with someone who isn't his bondmate. Castiel looks slightly ashamed, as if it's all his fault, moaning names of other men during knotting set aside. Okay, so Dean isn't wrong as such, but he should know better than to think that Sam is a fragile little omega, unable to take care of himself. Dean glares at Castiel, giving him the silent treatment as if he stopped liking Cas overnight.

Sam puts and end to the silence and the glares by putting an arm around Cas's shoulder, pulling him close. Sam can't stop himself from stroking Cas's cheek. He likes the feeling of being _pack_ he gets from it. "You all right?" Sam asks, pleased by the way Castiel melts into him, his pulse slowing down as if Sam's presence has an effect on him. Maybe it has; matings are inherently unreliable. Its effects can never be predicted precisely.

Castiel clutches at Sam's shirt, as if he really needs the closeness. "Yes."

"I'll go pay," Gabriel announces, nudging Dean on the shoulder, "Go put our suitcases in the car. They're fine, Dean."

"Got ourselves a pair of bossy omegas, eh, Cassie?" Dean finally let go of the grumpy attitude and returns to his usual self. "Oh, well. I suppose we asked for it. I'm sorry. Didn't mean to be an ass." 

"There is that. Too late to regret it now," Gabriel grins. "And if I left, you'd miss me like crazy, Deano. You'd waste away, longing for my dick." Gabriel leans in and kisses Dean on the mouth, wiping the remains of his discontent off of his face, leaving a lusty smirk there instead.

Dean rolls his eyes, sighs and picks up his own duffel, then makes an attempt to carry both Castiel's and Gabriel's douchey leather suitcases at once. He fails miserably. "Do you really need all this stuff?"

"Not everybody manages with two pairs of jeans, Dean." Sam entangles his fingers with Castiel's. "Come on. We better get in the car as well." Sam takes his own duffel in one hand, refusing to let go of his alpha. Their gentle touching does him good. Seeing how their connection calms Cas, it makes Sam feel a little better about their mating. It's a small thing, small caresses, but it helps. It's something, at least, that they can both enjoy.

Traffic out of Detroit isn't that heavy, and Sam's mood gets better. Gabriel's riding shotgun, too occupied with teasing Dean and fiddling with the stereo to talk to Sam. Castiel might not have slept too much, because it takes only half an hour before he sleeps soundly, his head on Sam's shoulder. It makes Sam happy. It's a sign, he thinks, that Castiel trusts him. Maybe their mating might have worked in a minor way, despite the unpleasant knotting. Gabriel sings along with the music, even there they seem to fit, Dean and his strange bondmate. Sam is envious. But at least he's happy that Dean is happy.

If Sam is to be honest, things looks a bit better today than they did in the gloomy light of yesterday's mating. Castiel isn't half bad, but he needs to learn that Sam is not out to confuse him or reject him. With Cas's morning freak-out resolved, Sam is back to where they started, his initial opinion on Cas is still the same: he likes him. A lot. He likes it even better that Cas snuggled up against his side, a warm easy closeness that they share, only the two of them. It makes Sam feel safe. Cas smells like pack. 

They drive for hours. Dean likes driving and he doesn't get tired easily. Now that they have both done what they have set out to do, Dean can't get away from Detroit fast enough. The Impala hasn't earned her name for nothing. She presses on, willing under Dean's experienced hands, or foot, in this case. She growls at the approaching night, until her hunger forces them to stop at a gas station. They, too, are hungry, and they gulp down a few burgers while Dean's baby gulps down innumerable gallons of petrol.

Cas and Sam take the backseat again, and Gabriel takes over the wheel, an indication on how much Dean trusts his lover and mate. Dean falls asleep immediately, and Sam is glad, because it leaves Gabriel in charge. Gabriel likes comfort. They drive past Chicago, Dean still sleeping. "We're stopping here," Gabriel says, turning the Impala into the parking lot of a small motel. "We shouldn't show up on your brother's doorstep at this time of night without warning, and we all need food and sleep."

"Thank you." Sam doesn't care to explain that he's sore. He wants to shift into his wolf form. Sitting down for hours the day after his first knotting... not on. He's exhausted and he would prefer if they were actually awake when they go see Adam. The relationship between them is tense enough as it is, what with Adam being their father's illegitimate offspring.

"Nah," Gabriel shrugs. "I'm too lazy and too used to decent beds to sleep in a car. It's pure self-preservation. And I want a shower before we visit your brother."

Dean is awake, bleary-eyed and not inclined to contradict Gabriel. He yawns. "As long as they have beer in the fridge. Hotel. Not Adam."

"We bought some at the gas station," Gabriel reminds him. "Now, get out and let's get your bro and mine a nice room; my guess is that they could use some rest. _Not_ in the Impala." Gabriel raises an eyebrow as if to dare Dean to contradict him.

Cleverly, Dean doesn't. "As long as you're paying, bitch," Dean growls.

"Call me that again, and you'll find your knot somewhere near your tonsils, sweetheart." Another growl from Dean only makes Gabriel laugh. "But I love when you get all bossy, alpha. Let's get to bed, and fast."

"Then get us those rooms, because, dude, it's not gonna happen out here. If you want my knot near _your_ tonsils, that is."

Gabriel obeys—which to Sam looks exactly as if Gabriel is doing whatever the fuck he likes. Everything is back to normal. Almost everything. Castiel's hand in his is very not-normal: slender, strong fingers wrapped around his, entangled warmth; that's new. But Sam likes it. What he doesn't like, however, is the room they get. 

"Two beds?"

"Maybe it's more appropriate." Closing the door behind them, Castiel lets go of Sam. "Friends, remember? Not... not lovers. We can't be lovers, Sam. I- I know that."

Strangely disappointed, Sam accepts it with a nod. Castiel is right. They are not lovers; they will never be. But they are packmates and friends, and Sam wants that kind of closeness. "We better get some sleep, then." Rummaging around in his duffel, thrown carelessly on the bed farthest away from the door, Sam finds a toothbrush and a clean t-shirt. He gets ready for bed as fast as possible, not wanting to drag it out longer than necessary. It's still awkward. Cas might have had his dick in Sam's ass, but it's still friggin' awkward to undress and go to bed in the presence of a man he doesn't want. 

Not that Cas wants him more than Sam wants Cas. Good that they are seeing eye to eye on not wanting each other. It bugs Sam a tiny, infinitesimal bit, though, not because he wants Cas, just... _because_. He prefers not to examine the feeling.

He gets under the covers before Cas is back from the bathroom, lights out, leaving only the lamp on the bedside table to cast a weak light over Castiel's bed. Sam forgets for a few seconds that he is tied to Lucifer when Castiel comes out, wearing nothing but a pair of boxer-briefs and a worn grey t-shirt that leaves little to imagination and everything to a libido that Sam would have sworn had died with his torn band. 

"Goodnight, Sam." Cas slides into the other bed, turning off the lights. 

Sleep doesn't come as quickly tonight.

They leave early. The drive down Interstate 90; for once — no, for the first time in their lives — not having to care whether a road is tolled or not. Money has stopped being an issue. There's a limit, of course, but it's not made up of tolled roads and decent motels, it's more in the direction of 'we can't afford to fund a full space shuttle program'-limit.

Windom is a town of fishing tourneys, turtle races, and kiddie tractor pull contests. They've been here before, on the day that Dean was appointed guardian for Adam. Adam had not been elated to discover that he had two older brothers, but Sam is willing to cut the boy some slack—his mother had just died, and the house they were living in was under foreclosure already. 

Thus, their first errand is to visit the bank to pay out the mortgage and the remaining additional debt. Setting up a fund for Adam, Sam dedicates a large chunk of his—formerly Castiel's—money to make sure that Adam can go to college if he wants to. 

Outside the bank, Castiel takes Sam's hand for a moment. "I would have done the same." It shouldn't matter, but it's good to know that Castiel appreciates what Sam has done for Adam. It's not the praise, it's that Cas understands. It's that Castiel doesn't think that Sam is a total idiot for taking over Adam's debt and the responsibility for their younger brother's happiness... it only makes Sam like Cas even better.

It brightens Sam's day. Which is good, because it would be an exaggeration to say that Adam is happy to see them.

"Just what I needed. Coming to help me pack?" Adam glares at the four men on his—technically, by now, Dean's—doorstep. "Oh, and you brought friends. How sweet. They can help me pack too. You know, help me preparing to be homeless."

Surprisingly it's Cas who steps forward. "I don't know you, Adam, and you don't know me. Seeing how rude you are, I might prefer to keep it like that." Castiel raises his head proudly, exuding power that makes Sam gasp and Dean send him a surprised look. 

Gabriel just shrugs and smiles, as if to tell Sam and Dean to let Cas do his thing. 

Adam, in turn, takes a step back. "Who the hell are you, and what the fuck are you doing in my house, threatening me?" He makes a face that says exactly what he thinks of Castiel: fear and contempt both.

"I'm Castiel Nadanos, your brother-in-law, and you should show me and your older brothers some respect. Sam sold himself for you. He sacrificed himself so that _you_ -" Castiel pokes Adam in the chest with a finger,"won't have to go to the Alliance to get yourself to an alpha who might like an ignorant and bratty little fool like you."

"Nadanos? You-" Adam takes another step into the house, his former confidence is exactly that: former. "Sam?"

"Yeah." Sam shrugs. "But as you see, it's not the worst deal I made. He-" Sam points at Dean, "-got it worse. Gabriel is, erm-"

"Ha-hah, very funny, dude." Gabriel swats Sam on the shoulder. "Dean is so in love with me that he doesn't know how to handle it." Gabriel turns to Adam. "I'm just that gorgeous."

"If by _gorgeous_ you mean _delusional_ , sure." Adam might have a hidden supply of sarcasm stored somewhere. "Is it true, Sam?"

"What? That I married Cas for money for your sake, or that Dean's in love with Gabriel? I did. And he is. I think."

Dean merely shakes his head, looking tired. "Christ..."

"Oh. I'm... you should come in. I don't have much furniture left, but..." Adam steps aside, letting them all in. 

Soon they are seated on a threadbare couch and a few boxes. Two boxes double as coffee table. Instant coffee is all there is, but that's fine. Sam is used to worse. Dean decides it's his turn to speak, and he explains to Adam what they've done. Adam is subdued; maybe it is finally dawning to him that they really are his family, his pack, and that he matters. He matters enough for them to be willing to make sacrifices.

"I want to apologize," Adam says. "I thought I was being abandoned. You know, foster care isn't exactly the rage these days, and my girl-"

"You have a girl?" Dean inquires. "Human?"

"Yeah. Is that a problem?" Adam frowns. He's a wolf, and wolves don't take human mates. Usually.

"If it isn't to you. Or her. She knows?"

It worries Sam a bit. Wolves keep to themselves in general. It's a rule. They hide. That's what they've done for centuries. That's how their life is. Hiding. Hunting. Keeping other supernatural beings from drawing attention to their world. Small communities like Lebanon sometimes know about them, but that happens only rarely. Windom is not like Lebanon. Lebanon already has two packless betas in their midst and the citizens of the small town sort of _know_. 

"Not everything. She knows that I'm were. Her great-grandfather was one, wolf too, and that's the only reason I told her." Adam's face turns soft and smooth at the thought of his girlfriend. "I want to make her my mate."

"Shouldn't you grow up first?" Dean snorts. "You'd want to finish whatever it is you want to finish."

"Eloquent. What Dean means is that he thinks you should consider finishing college first." Sam points out.

"I'm not mating _now_. Not that I've had much time to consider what to do with my life, you know, now that I actually have a place and money to go to med school. Are all Winchesters so dim?" Adam rolls his eyes, and in that instant he reminds Sam so much of Dean when he was that age that it's almost painful. 

"Glad to know you're so grateful," Sam snaps, not really meaning to. He smiles. "With that attitude you'd fit in so well in our group." Adam certainly is a Winchester. "Med school, then. You gonna join the pack, you think?"

Adam is taken aback by the question. "Er, pack?"

Castiel hushes Dean before Dean says anything. "The four of us. We're the founders of the new Winchester pack. We'll be located in Lebanon and Lovewell. Our grandfather had a farm there fifty years ago. Dean is our pack alpha."

"Winchester pack? Not Nadanos?" Adam knows the Nadanos name as well as any other were, and it's not surprising that he asks. No one in their right mind would renounce the right to use that particular name. Except for Gabriel and Castiel, that is.

"That's right," Dean says. "And you're our brother. You'll always have a place there if you want it. You're beta and we don't care that you want a human wife. It's as easy as that."

"Could I stay here? I mean, it's my mom's house, and you made it possible for me to keep it." Adam stops to think, at least that's what he looks like he's doing. "Can I stay here, and still be a member of the pack?"

Dean lets his eyes slide from Sam to Gabriel to Cas. They all nod, accepting Adam in their pack. "Yeah."

"Should I swear allegiance or promise you my firstborn or something?"

"Maybe when the kid's around twelve and needs little upbringing," Dean jokes. "You're in, bro."

They say goodbye to Adam, leaving him with a substantial amount of cash and list of numbers to call if he encounters any problems. The money ensures that he won't. It's over. Adam is safe. Sam is relieved. He did what he set out to do, securing a life for Adam, a comfortable one, filled with opportunities and the freedom of choice that Sam never had, that Dean was never allowed because of their father's choices. Despite being tied to a pack, settled with an unwanted mate, Sam finds that there is freedom to be found in the choice he made for himself. His life, bleak as it looked the moment he decided to refuse Lucifer, is a little brighter now. It's not that he needed Adam's snarky gratitude, that's merely a bonus. What Sam needs is the feeling of _purpose_ , that he did something with his limited choices that actually did some good. All right, killing monsters and salting ghosts... that's good too, but today he was able to do something for his family, for his pack, and that feels damned good.

"What now?" Castiel leans forward, sticking his head between Dean at the wheel, and Gabriel in the passenger seat. It's becoming a habit, that Sam and Cas are in the back seat. Sam decides that he'll need that car soon. He really wants one of his own.

"We have an appointment with a real estate agent this evening." Dean sends Gabriel a glare. " _He_ did that."

"What? I'm not sleeping in a tent in the woods, man, or in a den. It's not like Lebanon has hotels."

"Waste of money, to buy a second house, just because you can't wait until the builders are done." Dean pats the wheel of the Impala. "You're a wolf. We can sleep in the car. We've done that for-"

"No, Dean. Until we've bought a piece of land and there's a house on the lot, we're sleeping in another house. One I'll buy. You know, one that has plumbing and shit. Beds. If you'd rather avoid my pleasant company and sleep in the car, you do that, but I doubt that Castiel and Sammy are joining you. They like beds too. You know, like normal people."

Sam's about to argue that Gabriel shouldn't speak for them, but the thing is, Gabriel's right. They no longer have to sleep in tents or cars, or on the ground, not if they don't want to. Yeah, so maybe they'll grow soft a bit, but they are getting older. It's not as fun now as it were ten years ago, when hunting monsters all over the States still held some kind of excitement and allure. Castiel might be agreeing, too, because he does nothing but to keep his mouth shut and squeeze Sam's hand reassuringly, as if he knows exactly what Sam's thinking.

The overwhelming lack of support for a camping trip of some longevity makes Dean growl and huff. He starts the Impala, her wheels throwing a cascade of pebbles behind her as Dean gets her on the road towards Lebanon. 

They drive on for some time, the music from the stereo erasing the otherwise slightly uncomfortable silence. They're halfway to Lebanon before Dean finally speaks.

"It might be sensible to buy a townhouse," Dean reluctantly admits. "It's getting colder. I like heating. My baby shouldn't be used as a heater. It wears her out. Maybe there's a garage."

Cleverly nobody calls Dean out on his pathetic excuses. If he wants to pretend that it's for the sake of his beloved car, neither Cas, nor Gabriel seem to have a problem understanding that it is simply how Dean works. Sam knows better than to argue when Dean finally agrees to something. Dean is pack alpha now, and he is allowed to make it look as if he's making the decisions. Well, he is. Sort of. Except Gabriel is, and Dean is damned good at ignoring that particular fact.

Sam leans back in the seat, one arm around Castiel's shoulder, and laughs at everything and nothing. "It's going to work, isn't it?" he asks Cas, not really knowing what he's asking. Maybe it's all of it: Adam, Dean's new pack and the way they work together. It's so easy, not like any other pack Sam has ever encountered. It's like it's always been between Dean and him, nothing has changed, not even their mates has changed them, they're merely fitting in, as if they were meant to-

Sam frowns and looks down at Castiel. He shakes his head. No, that's not it. They weren't meant to be anything; it's merely coincidence, a random burp that fate made, a bit of destiny hiccups. Only this hiccup isn't bad: Castiel is going to be better for him than some asshole alpha who'd have torn up their pack and their lives. Tearing up the bond is a sacrifice, sure, one among so many they've made through the years. The outcome is bad, it hurts and Sam hates it. Then again, looking at Cas, as sacrifices come, it's not half bad.

"Is something wrong, Sam?" Castiel's hand is warm and tender as he strokes Sam's cheek briefly.

For the first time since he left Lucifer, Sam can honestly say that there isn't. The loss of the bond is still in the process of killing him with pain and need, but Castiel's kindness makes it bearable. Cas is soothing like cold water on a hot summer day. "No, Cas. I'm just... you know... " Sam laughs again. "I think I might be... a little happy."

Dean's eyes follow them in the rear view mirror. There's a glint of happiness in them as well, as if Dean is finally letting himself be truly happy too.

Maybe it's contagious? Sam hopes so. Because Dean is mated to a wonderful omega who loves him; Gabriel is the greatest, and possibly craziest and bossiest omega their pack could could ever get, and a great asset to them all. Sam wants to be happy and content with what they have. He wants them all to be happy.

There, in the car, Sam makes a conscious decision, one almost as important as—no, scratch that— _exactly_ as important as the one he took when he told Lucifer no and the one he took when he decided to do everything in his power to never make Castiel regret that he took him as his mate. Sam is going to be happy, and he is going to make Castiel happy too. Sam settles, relaxing into the deep seat, leaning against Cas, enjoying the way his mate's touch eases his conflicting feelings. Sam sighs, his mouth so close to Castiel's neck that it's almost a kiss. He spends the rest of the way, taking in Cas's scent, his presence, and it's not at all unpleasant.

The real estate agent is an elderly friendly man, he smells slightly like were, and he might be. It's impolite to ask. Maybe his spouse is were; Lebanon is despite its size, or maybe because of it, the home of a few packless betas. The house is elderly and friendly too, although it smells slightly of mildew and of being unused for some time.

"Three bedrooms, a parlor, a living room and partial basement," the real estate agent says. "There's a great wood-burning stove. The kitchen, however..." He leads them into the kitchen that looks as if it's the original one, way outdated. "Built with the house. Eighteen-ninety."

Sam's about to say that they're used to old houses when Castiel steps in.

"New kitchen. New floors. Downstairs bathroom needs change. This house is twice the price it's supposed to be. No, I don't think we'll take it." Castiel crosses his arms, so alpha that Sam is half-breathless over how damned _hot_ Castiel is when he gets all dominant. 

Dean is about to step forward, but Sam stops him with a hand on his arm. "Let's go upstairs and look. It might save us ten grand," Sam whispers. They sneak out of the kitchen as Cas haggles with the agent. 

"It'll do." Dean slides a hand over the polished walnut of a bed that seems to have been made at the same time as the kitchen. "We'll need some more furniture and a kitchen, but it'll do."

Sam opens the curtains and lets in the bright daylight. "The lot's huge." The next door house is an old farm, and there are cattle pens and a small belt of trees closer to the house, ensuring their privacy. "We can shift here if necessary. Without scaring the locals."

"Yeah. Until we can pick out a piece of land, it's not bad. We can drive to the Lovewell Wildlife Reserve from here if we want. I like it." Dean is a little subdued. Sam can't figure out whether it's the freedom he has to buy whatever the fuck he likes, as long as it's not a space shuttle or a fighter plane, or whether it's just that he's finally realized that he's settling down with a mate and a pack of his own. 

"It's our dream, Dean. This. Land. A house. Pack. Pups that don't have to grow up like we did, or like Adam."

Sam's words make Dean smile. "Gabriel certainly isn't going to be the run-of-the-mill daddy. Which sort of makes me feel good." Dean looks almost dreamy at the thought of his mate. "Didn't think that I'd ever have a litter of my own."

"One of us better get them. I don't think that..."

"You and Cas? You're not... He doesn't want to breed you?"

"No. And I... I don't think we'll ever get to it. He accepts that. He's a good mate, better than..." Sam winces at the pain as the torn bond tugs at his heart.

Dean's happy face disappears. "I'm sorry for everything, Sam. Maybe we should just have let Adam-"

"No!" Sam isn't lying when he refuses the thought so vehemently. "We did the right thing, and look what it got us, Dean! A pack. Two gorgeous mates, a hou-"

"You think Cas's gorgeous? I mean, he's not... what you wanted, but..."

"You need your eyes examined, dude? Of course he's gorgeous." Sam smiles at the thought of his mate. Cas is stunning, not that it matters, but in the Nadanos-family looks-department, Castiel is the big winner. "He's fucking hot, and you know it."

"Thanks, I got what I need." The giddy expression is back on Dean's face. 

"I wasn't offering." Sam is so surprised by his own sudden outburst that it makes him growl at Dean again, loudly, for good measure. "Cas's _mine_ ," he adds possessively. 

"Oooh, Sammy, really? Didn't think you were that interested."

"I'm not. But he's my mate." Sam had meant to say friend, but the mate aspect is suddenly strangely important to him. "And he's my friend."

"And mine, buddy."

"He's still hot. And my mate."

Dean pats Sam on the back. "Sure he is. Better get to the point where you enjoy it."

Yeah, Sam would like that and it'll happen when there's two Tuesdays in one week. Cas and his arrangement doesn't include sex for the fun of it. It includes one mating they've already gone through. And if they ever decide that they want kids, then Sam will allow Cas to breed him, so that's not happening either, although the thought of a sweet pup with Castiel's beautiful features isn't decidedly appalling. Not exactly great to look forward to a life in abstinence, but it's still better than being Lucifer's obedient breeding bitch.

"Come on, Sammy, not the sad face. Let's go see the other bedrooms."

They go through everything upstairs. The bathroom is nice and big and with a large tub, with suitable wolf-clawed legs. The second bedroom is as large as the master bedroom, and with a similar poster bed, only elm and not black walnut. "New mattresses, and those beds will do nicely." Dean pokes that the old mattress. "To think that we never have to sleep on moldy shit like that ever again. You and Cas want this one, or the other?" 

Sam decides not to ask for the guest bedroom. Maybe two beds instead of one will do? He's not going to sleep with Castiel and maybe it's better to be... separated as not to have any misunderstandings. For now, he'll have to suck it up. The king size is large enough to hold at least five people comfortably, so until they've had time to go shopping, Sam is willing to endure. "This one. I don't..." He doesn't _care_ , but it'll come out wrong, he's sure. "I don't mind which one."

"We should keep a list of things we need." Dean pulls up a smartphone that he didn't have three days ago. He opens up a document and starts typing. 

"Gabriel bestowed upon you the ability to use an iPhone? And the iPhone, too? Jeez, not that the rest of us tried to make you for years!"

"So?" Dean snorts. "I'm perfectly able, I just didn't hadn't real use for it until now." He grins. "Gabriel likes texts."

Sam closes his eyes and groans. Dean's a besotted idiot, and his brain went down the drain when he knotted Gabriel on the night of their mating. It's not at all as if Sam would want the same. No, he's content. That's it. Content.

"Let's go downstairs and see if Castiel has bought a house for us. Damn, he's ruthless when it comes to business." Sam feels pride fill him at the thought of his brave and competent alpha. "If he carried on like he started, the owners might have handed the property over to Cas for free already."

As it turns out, Cas has saved them eight grand and the owners have agreed to pay half of the expenses when they install a new kitchen. Lawrence isn't exactly the most desirable location in Kansas, and the owners were happy enough to get rid of the house. All there's left is for Dean to go sign the papers and call in the workers to do the necessary repairs and refurbishment. The real estate agent is happy too, like anyone with a chain and ball would be when they were free of them. The agent knows the right people for the job and promises Castiel right away that they'll have everything done in two weeks, except for the kitchen that might or might not be done at that time as well.

Dean uses his new-found iPhone-fu to look up a nice inn not too far away, close to Downs and not too far from yet another wildlife resort a bit further south-east.

Sam is relieved. He needs to run and hunt in his wolf-shape, getting rid of the accumulated tension and frustration. They get back into the car, watching as the real estate agent drives away. Sam doesn't look forward to two weeks in some motel, but it's the best they can do. At least he might be able to get a room of his own; he has the money to bribe his way to one, if nothing else.

Not even money can buy Sam a room that doesn't exist. He's sharing a room with his mate. His annoyance is tainted with an undercurrent of satisfaction that he cannot trace to any meaningful source. He wants privacy, he wants not to be caught in the strife between repulsion and attraction, and mostly of all he wants to avoid the nagging feeling that he's becoming attracted to Castiel. Mates, friends. Not lovers. _Not_ lovers. Castiel is not his lovemate. Castiel is not Lucifer. Castiel is his mate, yes, but out of convenience. To say that Sam is confused is an understatement.

Settled in the room, Sam wishes that he was alone. The pain of the broken bond still throbs and stabs at his heart. He closes his eyes, hiding his head in his hands as he sits at the bedside with his back to Castiel. He wished he had the luxury of being able to mourn. He can't do that with his mate so close. He can't do that to Castiel. He can't let Cas comfort him as he cries for his lost mate and the torn bond.

Castiel is more sensitive to his needs than Sam has hoped for. "I'm going to speak to Dean," Castiel says and walks towards the door without any fuss. Exactly what Sam craves — solitude and space to cry for his lost love. Maybe Sam should have recognized the sorrow and regret in Castiel's voice, it's just that it's easier to ignore it. Unable to stop himself, Sam is up from the bed, wanting to comfort his mate. But the door closes shut behind Castiel, cutting Sam and his determination off with a soft click. 

Guilt doesn't do much to improve Sam's mood. He can't decide between his need to be alone and the urge to run to his mate, offering him consolation. Frustrated Sam grabs a mug from the desk and throws it at the wall. It shatters into a million little pieces, irrevocably broken, like Sam's heart. A few moments later, Dean is knocking at the door. 

"You okay there, Sammy?"

"I need the car," Sam says, not asking. "I need the forest and the hunt."

Dean doesn't argue. Maybe he senses that Sam has reached his limit. He fumbles for the keys in his pocket at throws them to Sam. "Take care of her, or I'll rip off your junk."

As if he's ever going to use his junk for anything, anyway. He grabs the key and runs out the door. He can't get out of there fast enough.

The night is upon him and the road is a barely discernible line that leads further into the void. The blacktop is worn and Sam has to concentrate as not to ruin Dean's beloved car in a pothole. The smaller ones are the size of Mariana's Trench. The deep of the forest is welcoming. It's cool and damp and smells of earth and death and rotting leaves. Sam catches the scent of rabbit as he gets out of the car. He breathes in deep, letting the calm mood of the black, moonless woods wash over him.

He undresses quickly, carefully folding his clothes before he puts them in the trunk. He locks the car and hides the key under a rock a few feet from the Impala. "Later, girl," he tells the car and slides into a shift as smoothly as silk. He trots towards the trees, stopping only to lap from a mirrorless pool of rainwater. The trees sing to him, a song of peace and calm, a peace he's only found in Castiel's arms, in the safe embrace of his new mate. Sam whines. He can't help it, but he misses his mate. This is how they were supposed to be, Castiel and he, running free, no worries, playing and hunting. Mating.

Sam yelps, surprised as he understands that his wolf's need of _mate_ is not that of Lucifer, but of another man, of Castiel. His wolf-thoughts are more immediate, more in the now, not so hung up on what _was_. The wolf is _now_ , immediate, here. Maybe that's why. Castiel is mate now. Sam shakes his gigantic head, fluffing his fur. Sam barks, laughing as well as possible. He likes that Castiel is closer to him than he'd thought. They're friends after all. Even though they aren't mating, it's good to know that his wolf aspect likes Castiel too. That makes two of them.

Leaving his worries behind with his human shape, Sam concentrates on the delightful scent of rabbit and deer. It's going to be a good night, filled with hunt and blood and raw thoughts and meat. 

He wakes up to a gray dawn, a weak drizzle making the forest smell spicy and bloody. It feels as if something is pulling at him. Sam licks his muzzle and tears into the remains of the deer he caught last night, ignoring the irritating sensation of being called upon. When he's full, he pulls the remains back a little from the small path, knowing that smaller animals will benefit from his kill. It's going to be winter soon, and foxes and badgers will need to eat well before snow sets in. He feels better. Full of meat and hunt, he trots back to the car, following his own scent through the unknown territory back to where he parked. 

He stops, just short of crossing the treeline. A big black wolf sits next to the car. Sam sniffs. The breeze is upwind and he can't smell the other wolf. It's too big to be an ordinary wolf; it has to be were. Sam's mouth tenses, enough to bare his canines. A small warning, not enough to be a threat. He steps out into the open, slowly, prepared for a fight. Sam's grateful that his human size translates into his wolf size as well. 

The black wolf watches him without moving, not indicating whether it's friendly or the opposite. It cocks its head in a quirky way that makes it look like a confused owl.

Castiel.

The realization hits Sam like a merry little wave of giddiness.

Before he thinks, he's ambushed by his own tail which has to be the first time in the story of weres. Sam jumps and hastens into a goofy chase, three times around himself before he gets a hold of the beast. He releases it and he wags it happily before he stops. The black wolf gets up, barking stupidly like a silly puppy. 

All right then. If that's what Cas wants, Sam can provide! He woofs and gets down on his forelegs, making the invitation irresistible. Cas is fast, he covers the distance between them in ten giant strides, powerful and strong. Cas snorts into Sam's ear as he passes by, managing a sharp pinch of teeth at Sam's right front paw. 

Oh, the game is on! 

They run through the trees, playfully yipping and attacking each other, one tumbles over, and the other jumps, exchanging mock attacks and growls. Sam runs like he never ran before. Fast and hard, he runs like the wind, and still Castiel is at his side, next to him, matching his speed and strength. It makes his wolf ecstatic; no wolf has ever had a stronger or better alpha. Filled by a joy that he never experienced in his human form, Sam makes happy little howl-mewls as he runs, tongue lolling, until he can't breathe. He makes a high jump, almost pushing Cas over, and flops down on the cool ground, soft grass and leaves making a pleasant cushion for them to lie on. 

Equally breathless, Castiel lies down next to Sam, his entire body vibrating from heavy pants. Sam raises his head and rolls over, looking down at Castiel, for the first time really studying him in his wolf form. He's beautiful even now, night-black fur and vibrant ice-blue eyes, more like a husky's than those of a wolf. The sunny morning sky seem to find itself a mirror in them, making them more blue. Yes, his mate is beautiful in both his shapes. 

Sam snuffles, pushing his wet nose into Cas's ear, licking it, content, not half as bothered with his recent and painful past as he were yesterday. Cas yawns and pushes Sam down with a huge paw. There is so much strength in him, and Sam complies willingly, groaning and making little content noises as Cas rests his head on Sam's back. Sam yawns too. He could... _they_ could take a nap before they go back. It's too good to be out here, and Sam doesn't really want to return to the inn. Not yet.

The sun is high up on the sky when Cas finally raises his head, woofing at some animal or other. It wakes up Sam, and Cas gets up, a tilt of his head showing that he wants Sam to follow. Castiel is good at following a track, he doesn't stop, but runs, surefooted and fast, in the direction of the car.

Castiel's bushy black tail wags a happy rhythm against the side of the Impala when Sam catches up. Sam shifts smoothly, if not eagerly, into his human form. "Damn, you're fast," Sam manages, his words cut up by strained gasps. "You're faster than me!"

A wave of skin wells over the black fur. Cas gets up as if it was as natural to him as breathing. "As I told you before, I've fought my way to the top of my former pack, and not just by looking pretty."

Yeah, Sam is sure he has. Cas is _dangerous_. His handsome face and unassuming frame is dangerous. Nobody expects this slightly nerdy dude to actually be this strong, but Cas has this lean strength that stretches into immense stamina. He's fast and intelligent, and that matters. Sam suddenly can't stop himself from looking at Cas before he realizes that he's looking himself into yet another kind of breathlessness. 

Suddenly Cas is shy. "We should dress and get back. You're okay, Sam?"

"I am now." It isn't a lie. His night with Cas in wolf-form has eased some of Sam's pain. He feels closer to his alpha now, like they are becoming a couple. Platonic, but still a couple. It's this sense of belonging that Sam never thought he'd feel again, but it's there, no more than a vague echo of what he had with Lucifer. Even now, the thought of Lucifer is painful.

Cas might have sensed it. He slides his hand down Sam's back, just comfort, and it takes some of the pain away. "Thank you, Cas."

"You're my mate," Castiel says and turns away to fetch his clothes where he hid them. 

It shouldn't explain anything, but it does. It explains everything. 

When they go to bed that night there is no more talk about separate rooms. And when Sam wakes up in the middle of the night, screaming as he fights his nightmares of broken alphas and broken dreams, there is no more talk about separate beds, either. He turns into Castiel's embrace, lulled into sleep by the scent and the gentle touches of his friend and packmate.


	7. The Kings of the Land

Time passes quickly. The two weeks until they can return to their house are over almost before Sam has managed to come to terms with them settling down. They have enough to do, finding proper land in the part of Kansas that their grandfather once farmed takes time. The four of them scours the Internet to find a place that suits them. They need at least hundred-and-fifty acres. It turns out to be difficult; it's either useless farmland with few trees, or the lot is not big enough for a much larger pack. Since money is no longer an issue, it isn't as difficult as it could have been, though. With Gabriel paying for half of it, they finally secure a combined timber and farmland lot twenty miles from Lebanon. It has the benefit of being very close to absolutely nowhere, and very close to the Lovewell wildlife reserve. It's perfect. They can live with their pack here, it is small enough to manage, and large enough for their pack to grow. There are cheap houses for sale in the small towns around for those who'd rather live closer to civilization. It has its benefits to be close to shops and schools for the pups. There is no other pack in the vicinity; the one in Lawrence is the closest. Yeah, it's perfect. Dean complains that it's going to be really difficult to find workers who are willing to work on the house they want to build, though.

It only takes Gabriel a few hours and a yet another big chunk of their fortune to find an architect who caters to weres, and enough people who are willing to build a pack house in record time. Despite his relaxed attitude, Gabriel is a competent businessman. A degree from Cornell and years, managing his absent father's companies, fighting his way to the top of the Nadanos pack, Gabriel is so much more than what meets the eye, not that there is anything wrong with the view when it comes to Dean's handsome omega. Castiel is all business, too, and he knows how to close a deal. Sam is sure Dean is as surprised as he is that they've landed such competent mates, although it shouldn't. The Alliance isn't a service that ordinary people can afford, so it isn't strange that their mates are... extraordinary.

With the purchase of pack land they are all able to relax. Their pack is still consisting only of five people — six, counting Adam's girlfriend. The pair probably won't join them in Lebanon in the foreseeable future. Adam has education to finish and a human girl to marry; he'll move in when he is ready. For now, Sam is merely content that they have saved Adam a cruel fate.

Looking at Castiel, Sam's destiny isn't half bad and definitely not as cruel as he once thought. Sam is becoming increasingly infatuated with his mate. Not that he lets Castiel know — they have agreed to stay friends. And they are. They are friends who sleep in the same bed. Friends who run together, hunt together. Friends who catch each other staring too often and too intensely.

Sam is not sure what to do with it. He can still feel the line to Lucifer, the bond still hurting. He is still in pain, but the open wound that Lucifer left him with is slowly healing. It feels like it has scabbed over, the skin itching and pulling tight. It's painful, yes, but manageable. 

Dean and Gabriel are in love, and their constant flirting and kissing and groping somehow create a strange connection between Sam and Cas. They connect when they both roll their eyes at their brothers, and when they both decide go to find somewhere else to be — together — when the two lovebirds are at it. It's annoying and enviable at the same time. It has been less than two weeks, and although Sam is getting used to settling down, he has not yet come to terms with his destiny, mostly because it hasn't yet turned into a constant that he can relate to. One day the pain of rejecting Lucifer is fading, the next it's back, worse than ever. But he _is_ getting better. Whether he will ever feel whole is questionable, though. It's a dance of a pair of steps forward and two back, then a leap ahead. It is a work in progress, but change is happening.

Sam's relationship with his mate is changing as well. He feels content and comfortable in Castiel's company. They are becoming so attuned to each other: Sam knows instantly when Cas needs him. They touch. A lot. Every brush of Castiel's fingers, every moment of closeness brings Sam relief. He thinks he is becoming a little addicted to Castiel's presence. Or a lot. He appreciates the quiet pleasure in they both seem to enjoy when they are together. 

The only downside is that Sam has never seen so many truly horrible TV series in his entire life. But sitting in the deep couch in the inn's common room, cuddled up under a blanket with Cas, Sam is as close to happy as one can be, living with the pain of the torn bond. 

Maybe he needs to come to terms with this pleasant aspect of his mating and stop using _Smallville_ as an excuse to snuggle up with Castiel for hours.

Luckily the fifth season of Leverage airs on the day they move into their refurbished house in Lebanon and Sam feels much better. They really do have to watch the last season together.

The old house looks great. It's going to be a pleasant stay, living there until their new house is finished. Pristine white siding, the inner walls painted in colors ranging from a light blue in the kitchen to a dark forest green in their living room, the house reflects the sky and the forest that they love so much. The house is a bit too close to humans, yes, but it's their home. Sam's first home since he was a child. Almost reverently he walks through the airy rooms, touching a new book case here, the polished surface of an old table there. "I like it," Sam tells Castiel. "You're used to better, I suppose?"

"No. I'm not." Castiel wraps his arm around Sam's waist. "I was alone. Even in the middle of my pack, I was alone. No amount of furniture or luxury can make up for that. Compared to what I have now... mate, a true pack, friends... No, I certainly isn't used to better."

Sam melts a little. "I'm glad. I mean, that you like it. Us."

"Yes. You." Castiel's hand tenses. "Gabriel, Dean. You. _You_ , Sam."

It makes Sam's heart flutter in a way he hadn't expected. "Thanks, Cas." Sam wants to tell Cas that he likes him as well, that he really, really likes him, only he has no words for it. There is no correspondence between the word _like_ and the feeling that Sam wants to convey. He has to wait. Until the feeling and the words are in agreement with each other.

"Want to watch _Leverage?_ I could make us a steak," Castiel asks. 

Dean and Gabriel have retreated to the bedroom already. Judging from the muffled sounds from above, it's to try out their new mattress and the sturdiness of a century-old poster bed. Sam looks towards the ceiling, hoping the chandelier stays. "Please."

"We could test the surround sound system," Castiel suggests. "It should drown them out." He blushes and Sam thinks Cas is... adorable. 

"I'd love that," Sam says. He's not admitting that Gabriel's and Dean's blatant desire for each other is getting to him. He's still affected by his loss, and he shouldn't feel any desire at all except for his lost bondmate, but he's not made of stone. "I'm hungry."

Replacing one hunger with another, Sam digs in when Castiel serves them two bloody steaks, so raw that they almost bleed out on the plate. The fresh vegetables and the glass of wine aren't too bad, either. Sam has turned on their TV, a huge flat screen that takes up half the wall. Leverage is on. They eat and watch Mark Sheppard getting punched in the face by Christian Kane until he's screwed over by Timothy Hutton, or rather by the characters they play. Upstairs, Gabriel's moaning and begging for more has stopped; at least they can't hear him beg any longer. Sam is able to enjoy the meal. 

Finishing the steak, Sam leans back, glass in one hand. "Thanks, Cas. You're so good to me." 

Castiel puts his arm around Sam's shoulder and Sam doesn't mind. He shifts, moving closer to his mate. He sighs, enjoying that they don't have to do anything these days but to wait for their new pack house to finish, and that's going to take months. "I think I've waited for this moment," Sam says, taking a sip of his wine. "You know, when everything falls into place."

"Everything?" Cas asks, dragging the word out a little. The muscles in his arm tense, as if he is on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Sam feels like he is out of oxygen. He hesitates. "I don't know. Perhaps." 

"I don't understand." Castiel's eyes are soft, but there's a frown on his brow. "There are... aspects... I-"

Sam can't help it, but his alpha looks so adorably confused that he can't help himself. He cups Castiel's cheek, bending down to press a soft kiss to his lips, their first, barely brushing the corner of his mouth. "Aspects. Yes."

"Oh," Cas breathes, swallowing. "Aspects?"

"Mm-hm," Sam agrees. "I like it when we cuddle." Yeah, he likes it a lot. His stomach, in turn, decides that it's time to practice somersaults and butterfly-catching. Likes. 

"Me too." Castiel lets out a shaky breath. "Me too.".

Castiel is up before dawn as usual. Sam wakes up to the sound of late birds singing the long warm summer goodbye, accompanied by the sound of fall rain. Castiel's comforter is folded neatly, as if he wanted to leave the bed with no traces that he slept there. Resting his head on a hand, Sam looks at the empty side of the bed. He'd like to wake up with Cas, just once. They do nothing but sleep, huddled together against the cold night, the heavy blankets still a safety barrier between them. Sam turns over on his back, looking up into the ceiling, yawning. It's so good, sleeping next to Castiel.

Sam asks himself what it is he wants from Cas. Comfort, yes. Pack, of course. The small space they created, just for the two of them as they became mates? Maybe. But there is more that Sam wants and likes: The laughter in Castiel's eyes when he changes into his wolf form and charges, attacking Sam so playfully. The comfortable silence. The silken dryness of Castiel's lips. The way he smiles, little secret smiles that are only for Sam.

"Oh, fuck," Sam growls, pulling a pillow over his head. "It's too much." Like a kid picking in a scabbing scar, Sam's thoughts wander. Lucifer. Sam says it aloud. "Lucifer." Somehow it doesn't feel like he's being stabbed with a thousand knives. It's slightly disappointing, and Sam decides that he's being an idiot. He had just thought that the pain of rejection and loss would last longer. 

Maybe he merely likes being a martyr. "Stop being an idiot," he says, throwing the comforter over on Cas's side. "You really like pain that much, you fool?"

The answer, obviously, is _no_.

What Sam likes considerably better than thinking of Lucifer is to get down in the kitchen, only to find a gigantic stack of pancakes and a bowl of fruit salad to munch on, courtesy of Castiel.

"Mornin' Cas." Without thinking, Sam slides his arms around Cas from behind, resting his head on Cas's shoulder. "You made me breakfast." 

"I did." Cas leans back against Sam's chest for a second, before he realizes what he are doing. He whines and tries to turn, a little desperate, as if he's been caught doing something he shouldn't.

"Hey, baby, relax." Sam doesn't let go. Cas has turned around and looks at Sam with flight and fear in his eyes. Sam doesn't like it. Ever so slowly he leans in and kisses Cas on his breathless mouth, two seconds of damp warmth and the brushing of lips against lips. "Don't worry," Sam says and lets his arms fall away, leaving Castiel to decide whether he wants to escape or not.

Castiel stands there, frozen, long enough for Sam to consider whether he broke Cas entirely with that kiss. 

A gasp, and Cas is gone, a slender black wolf running out of the kitchen, out of the door, into the backyard. Sam stares at his alpha mate, fleeing. "Well, there is something you don't see every day," Sam says, wondering what he did wrong to make Castiel so flustered.

Maybe it was the kiss? It didn't feel wrong. 

It really didn't.

It felt _right_.

A few hours later Castiel decides to come back in. He's all dirty and he has gore and a few pieces of meat smeared around the muzzle. The black wolf snakes its way around the dining room table as if the hunt is still in his blood. Sam regards his mate with concern. Perhaps Cas thinks that Sam overstepped his bounds, violated the blooming friendship that has grown between them. 

Without saying anything, not as much as a growl, Cas disappears up the stairs, leaving a muddy trail of dirt on the whitewashed floor. Sam has to restrain himself from following him. Castiel's distress aches in the back of Sam's mind, a strange and unexpected ache.

Instead Sam makes himself useful, making coffee for them both, hoping that Cas will come down to share it with him. Preferably before Gabriel and Dean return from the pack's new lot. Sam knows that they have to talk about it, those two innocent little kisses that somehow are far from innocent. They are destructive. They make Sam's defenses crumble.

Sam wonders what it is he tries to protect. His heart is broken already, but the strangely sacred memory of Lucifer is, should be, insignificant to his current situation. He should get over himself. It's fine to mourn a broken bond, but he wasn't going to enjoy martyrdom. He has already decided that he doesn't want to _enjoy_ suffering. There is no cherished memory to protect, only pain. So, what's on the other side? When the defenses are gone, when the walls have crumbled? 

Lucifer's lust, desire, love? Or Castiel's? 

Maybe Sam has to see that he might find there everything he rejected in favor of holding on to the frayed ends of the torn bond. A bond that never truly was.

Yeah, they have to talk.

Upstairs the shower is turned on, so Cas has at least decided to change into his human shape. Sam takes the coffee with him into their living room, waiting for Cas to come downstairs again. The smell of Cas's shampoo reaches Sam before the sound of steps on the stairs. Human steps. 

"Cas?" Pouring a full mug for Castiel, Sam braces himself. He's not sure what to say; he's had time enough to mull it over, but still he isn't certain. Should he say anything at all? Should he apologize? Should he confess and admit that he'd like to kiss Castiel again? 

And again. And then again. And then some.

"What's going on?" is the first thing Castiel asks when he finally stands in the door, one hand on each side of the frame, bare-chested and damp-haired and utterly delectable. "I thought we had an agreement."

"There's coffee."

Castiel doesn't move. "I need you to explain to me, Sam. Before I go anywhere near you. I have only so much patience."

Patience? What the hell does patience have to do with it? "Patience?"

"I'm alpha. You're my mate."

"So? You're not a mindless beast unless you choose to be." It's a fact that has become more and more interesting to Sam, Cas's beast. "You were my mate yesterday and the day before and last week, too and then you had no problem being patient."

Castiel pushes off, striding across the floor, more dominant than Sam has ever seen him. He swallows nervously. He doesn't want to have an argument. It's not that he's going to back down. "Then why are you doing it?" Castiel asks. "Are you testing me?"

"Doing what?" It's the kissing, it has to be. The boundaries Sam set for their friendship are not as strong as they were just a week ago. "What? The... kiss? I don't know. I'm sorry, Cas. It's like this urge I can't fight. Or I can. Of course I can. I'm not some weak, mindless omega. It just feels so right." 

"Yes, the kiss," Castiel snarls. The wood creaks as Cas leans across the coffee table, fists on the polished surface. "And while we're at it, maybe _this_ might clear a few things up that neither of us might have thought through entirely." Without further ado, Cas grabs Sam by the shirt, pulling him up and halfway over the table. "Now is the time to say no if you want to say no," Cas growls deep in his throat, and Sam finds that he can say absolutely nothing, least of all _no_. He fights for air and enough control over himself. He wants to make abundantly clear to Cas what he thinks of this new idea of his.

"Yes," Sam croaks. "God, yes!" 

Castiel grants no mercy. He kisses Sam brutally hard and demanding, and Sam can barely stand, the angle hopeless and his legs suddenly useless. Only Castiel's surprising strength keeps him standing, not that Sam cares whether his upright or on his head as long as Castiel keeps kissing him. Sam yields to Castiel's demand so very willingly, touching wherever he can reach: Castiel's slim waist, his narrow hips, his flat stomach. Castiel, in turn, is holding Sam up with one hand, the other stroking Sam's back, the rounding of his ass. Castiel tastes of toothpaste and a little of rabbit, and Sam can't breathe, his entire world is upturned, ripped into little pieces; it's a parade of emotions and longings inside him. "No more," he begs in the moment when Castiel needs air. "Please, Cas!" It's too much, too many feelings at once. 

Sam expects Castiel to be his usual semi-apologetic self, but that's not how Castiel plays it. He is full-on alpha as he pulls back, the eyes glowing with a fierce, possessive lust. "Mate," he says quietly, but very, very determinedly, "this is how we kiss in the future. Like this, or not at all. Your decision."

Relieved to be granted reprieve, Sam doesn't want to do anything but to bare his throat in submission to his mate. "Yes, alpha." He finds the determination amongst all his mingling feelings and sends Cas a smile. "Yes, please. Yes, Cas."

"Good." Castiel relaxes suddenly, the whole alpha demeanor sliding off of him. Sam breathes out, tension leaving him. He sits down on the couch, holding out a hand, without words telling Cas that it's all right, it's fine. All's good between them. They have merely decided that their friendship has expanded a bit, and that kissing is fine. Sam can't stop himself from sighing contentedly. Oh, kissing is fine.

Sam had hoped that he would feel happy again one day, but to be honest he hadn't thought that he would be. He was halfway wrong because he feels happy half of the time. And that is the precise description of how he feels. During the day he reads, hangs out with Gabriel, bickers with Dean and kisses Castiel or runs with him in wolf-form, cherishing the playful and strong alpha that he is. A full moon comes and goes, and it doesn't make much of a difference that they _have_ to shift when the moon hangs low and open-mouthed on the night sky. They'd have done it anyway, hunting for rabbit or deer, or just for being goofy and foolish like young puppies chasing each other through the woods.

But when the night falls, when Sam tries to sleep, then his happiness is gone. He was getting better, he was sure of it. And then his dreams changed. He hasn't talked to anyone about it, but he thinks that Dean and Castiel are going to force him one day. Sam might want it that way since he is not sure he can get the words out by his own volition. He sure feels happy when he wakes up next to his mate, but nothing can erase the dark rings around his eyes, nor can it make him stop yawning or falling asleep in Cas's arms when they cuddle and kiss on the couch. Sam doesn't like going to sleep any longer. Sleep is a pit of darkness and pain.

His dreams are haunted, and Sam doesn't know what to do about it.

A small distraction is provided when two young weres arrive. Sam knows Ash and Jo of the Hunter pack very well, well enough for them to have called beforehand, asking if they could drop by. 

"Nah," Ash says when Sam asks him why they didn't tell why they wanted to visit. "You motherfuckers would just have asked us to get the fuck out if you knew we were coming to pledge our allegiance to Dean. I know. Dr Badass here... he's is not for everyone. I'm too cool for this world."

There's that. 

Sam knows that Dean might have had a crush on Jo before he met Gabriel, so for her sake she and Ash are becoming the first new members of their pack. Dean is almost doe-eyed in his admiration of his new pack-mates. Not that he admires them as such, it's more that they represent everything Dean has worked for: they represent their future. Jo's a tough down-to-earth alpha bitch, and she settles in the guest bedroom with Ash with no fuss and a sawed-off shotgun at her side of the bed.

Jo and Ash, however, do nothing to relieve Sam of his nightmares. They are becoming increasingly vivid. During the day, when Sam's with Cas, he doesn't think that much about Lucifer. The pain of the broken bond is a dull ache when the sun is up. But when Sam goes to bed, cuddling up with Cas, it's quite another thing. It happens more and more frequently that he wakes up crying for Cas, when Lucifer, increasingly cruel, is haunting him in his sleep. Some dreams are vividly violent and brutal. Others are merely Lucifer's voice, so soft and loving, describing in detail how Sam will be broken down, bit by bit, until he accepts Lucifer as his bondmate.

In his sleep, Sam is defenseless. His omega nature doesn't make it better, for the dreams are wearing his strength down, baring his instincts, leaving them raw and bloody. It is as if Castiel senses it, for he never goes any further than kissing Sam passionately. Sam's sure that Castiel has seen how weak he's becoming, seen how easy it would be to take from Sam anything he wants.

It's early morning when Sam wakes up with angry tears running down his cheeks. The morning is dark and cold; there's a thin layer of early snow pooling at the bottom of the window frame. Sam reaches for Cas in the dark, but as usual he's up early, either to make breakfast or to check their territory with Dean. Shaken, still with the dream on his mind, Sam's entire being longs for Castiel. Sam hides his head in his hands, trying to sort out his fears and his needs. 

The bond that he wanted so much, torn as it is, feels as if it is made up by equal parts fear and omega instinct, as if Lucifer is calling forth everything Sam hates and uses it against him, not that Lucifer, the real Lucifer has anything to do with it. Sam is certain that it's the bond and his mind fucking with him. What is real, though, is that Sam fears Lucifer's revenge, despite the radio silence. Lucifer has done nothing to actually make Sam suspicious. Still, Lucifer didn't come off as the type who takes shit lying down and that _is_ worrying.

"I _hate_ him," Sam hisses, not that it changes anything. Not really helpful, but Sam somehow likes how he's gotten to that point. "I'll never submit to him."

No, he won't. He belongs to Castiel, just like Cas belongs to him. What he has with Cas is so different from what Lucifer offered. Castiel is everything he said he'd be, and then some. No alpha could be more considerate, not even Dean. The thought of Cas makes Sam smile. Yeah, he might be in love with his wonderful, gorgeous mate. 

Sam's eyes snap wide open at the thought. Love? He blinks and swallows. Oh, he knew he was attracted, because Cas is kind and beautiful. But... love?

It's a revelation.

Love? Is it really possible?

Throwing off the comforter, Sam doesn't care to dress. He pulls a hoodie on, and a pair of warm socks before he runs downstairs, needing to speak to someone.

"Gabriel? Gabriel?"

The man in question sticks his head out in the hall. "Is there a fire?"

"Yes!" Sam waves Gabriel with him into the kitchen. "Where's Cas and Dean?"

"Outside. So, okay, spit it out." Gabriel grabs the coffee pot and two mugs, pouring a cup for himself and one for Sam. He pushes one across the kitchen table, towards Sam.

Sam wraps his hands around the mug, warming his fingers. "Do you think it's possible to be bondmate to one man and lovemate to another?"

"That's it, don't break it to me gently." Gabriel wiggles his eyebrows. "You're in love with my brother."

Sam can't stop himself from laughing. "Yeah, one of them at least."

"Oh. Yeah." Gabriel laughs. "Didn't think anyone cared to fall in love with Lucifer. Not... I mean, I love him, but I sorta... hate him, too, if that makes sense?"

It doesn't, and yet it does. To a degree Gabriel's conflicting emotions encompasses the feelings that Sam has had for Lucifer. Not-quite bondmate, never lover. Love and hate. "It does make sense."

"And now you're in love with Castiel? Or you think you are?"

Thinking about it a few seconds before he replies, wanting to get it right, Sam nods. "I'm not sure. I think I am."

"Good for you, Sammy! And for Cas. He deserves it." Gabriel pats Sam on the shoulder, resting his hand there. "I sense that there might be a _but_ in this somewhere."

"There is." Sam takes his mug and pulls out a chair. He needs to sit. Gabriel sits down too, understanding that this is serious business. Good thing about Gabriel is that he isn't so hung up on being girly like Dean would have argued, attempting to avoid any discussion of feelings. "I dream about Lucifer all the time. Maybe I just think I'm in love with Castiel because it's so scary, having Lucifer torturing me every time I go to sleep."

"Or maybe it's some kind of emotional residue? It's not without costs, severe costs, to refuse a bond." Gabriel sighs. "You should be grateful that you never consummated... with Lucifer. I don't know for sure, but the bond wouldn't have been as easy to break."

"You call this easy?" Sam huffs. "You do _so_ not know what the fuck you're talking about."

"Nope. I'm guessing." Gabriel purses his mouth, tapping his lips with a finger. "I'm going to be a bit personal. How often do you and Cas fuck?"

" _Gabriel_!"

"You want my help or not? I'm not prying for my own perverse pleasures... oh, well. I am, but still. I have an idea."

"You are such a pig. To think that Dean cares to keep you." Sam hadn't expected less from Gabriel, and he likes his fellow omega enough to put up with him, indulgences, pranks and all. 

"I'm good in bed. I'm sure you've heard."

"Yeah, and so has the entire neighborhood. If Dean moaned any louder, they'd have heard him in Russia."

"Impressive, yes?" Gabriel has the audacity to look proud.

"Fuck you. And give me some more coffee."

Gabriel does as asked. Except for the fucking. Of course Gabriel can't carry a conversation about more intimate stuff without dragging it down to a level. It makes it a little easier that Gabriel is so casual. 

Sam isn't too fond of admitting that Cas and he has made it to kissing, except for that one time on their mating night. "We don't. I mean, we did it to complete the mating."

"What?" Gabriel looks stunned. "That's... "

"We both agreed to it."

"That's insane. I mean... look at my brother, dude!" Gabriel is wide-eyed as he tries to comprehend that it is actually possible to exist without sex on an hourly basis. "Oh-kay. And now you want some?"

"God, yes!" Sam wants it all. He can never be Castiel's bondmate. They are never going to be what Sam and Lucifer would have been, but they can be lovemates if Castiel is willing. "All of him." Sam sighs happily, dreamily, at the thought of Cas. "So you think it's possible? To be bound to another, and still keep to one's lovemate?"

"You're in love, all right! Nobody looks so abundantly soppy and lost if they aren't." Gabriel leans forward, putting one hand over Sam's. "Sam... listen. You have free will. You know that. That's why I'm with your pack.You all support free will. Well, that, and because Dean's so hot. You should talk to Cas and find out what he wants. Judging from the way he looks at you, the way he protects you, he won't be adverse to becoming mates... real mates. I think that if you and Cas allow your connection to become deeper and stronger it will help cut off whatever hold Lucifer might have on you through the remains of the bond. 

"And if Cas doesn't want that? What do I do?" Sam usually isn't this helpless. Then again, he's never been in love before.

"I don't know what he wants, Sam. He doesn't speak about your relationship. I have eyes, and I can see how much he wants you, but I don't have the full answer to what my little brother feels. You need to talk to him. And maybe find out exactly what you want. You know, you owe it to Cas to let go of Lucifer once and for all. If you really love him."

Gabriel is right. Sam might have been a little in love with the pain. He had been in love with the ravaged remains of what he felt with Lucifer, with this abundant joy, with the desire and the sense of perfect completion. Yeah, Gabriel is right. Sam has to decide, now, what he wants from life. Sam knows that he already decided when he accepted Castiel's mating offer. Deep down, Sam knows that he had not committed fully, all the time holding back, hurting them both, not allowing himself to fall in love with his beautiful, loveable alpha. Gabriel's advice is sound, and Sam knows that he has some thinking to do.

He gets up, wanting to speak to Cas immediately. Sam is bursting with the urge to tell Cas that he's in love. He wants to tell Cas that they can become more than friends with the benefit of great kisses. If Castiel wants it, that is. Sense takes over. Sam knows that he has some thinking to do first. He has so consider seriously what he is doing this time. He has to be _sure_ or Cas could get hurt again. "Thanks, Gabe," Sam says, squeezing Gabriel's arm. "And promise you won't tell Dean until I've decided what to do about all this."

As he returns to the bedroom, he flops down on the bed. The sheets smells of Castiel, and Sam turns his head into the pillows, calming himself by the scent of his alpha. Sam goes back in time a few months, to the time when he had to choose his mate at the Alliance. Nothing has changed. He gave up his freedom of choice then: it's Castiel or nothing. He realizes that it doesn't bother him any longer. 

Because Sam knows that if fate decided to let him choose between all alphas in the entire world, he'd still pick Castiel Nadanos.

Even at the threat of the world coming down around him, he'd still pick Castiel.

Late November turns into December and Sam is still lingering, afraid to ruin what he has with Cas. He is aware that he needs to act soon; winter solstice is near, and with it the recurring heats of the pack's omegas. It will not be wise to take any decisions regarding Cas when he's too close to his heat. Actually Sam should stick to finding out of what to eat for breakfast or dinner. Preferably locked up and on suppressants. There is no reason to make things worse for him and Cas.

It sets a limit to how long Sam can drag out the inevitable. It's tempting, though, to let his relationship with Cas stay as it is, except he can't. The dreams are haunting him, still growing more vivid. Castiel knows something is wrong, Sam can see it in the worried look in Cas's eyes. Sam's need for Cas grows stronger by the day. Sam is sure that Cas has noticed; he is merely the alpha he promised to be: he respects Sam's need for independence enough to let Sam decide when the time is right.

In the second week of December the pack gets more members. Maybe it's the approaching Christmas that makes discontent and worn-out weres decide that they're better off elsewhere. First it's an older man, one that they all know only as _Death_ , for that's what he is. A former enforcer of the Devil's Gate pack up in Wyoming, Death is tired. His pack alpha, Crowley, has accepted the resignation — probably because Crowley is a power-mad, ruthless hellhound who has no use for a Death who isn't as deadly dangerous as he once were. 

Death is accompanied by his daughter, Tessa, a quiet dark-haired woman. Death's and Tessa's presences are surprises in more ways than one. Their application compels Dean to ask them all to a pack meeting. Death and Tessa are both were-hounds. In their hound shape they are greyhound-like creatures, brilliant hunters and killers, even faster and more deadly than any wolf. Dean has never considered running a mixed pack, but Gabriel simply tells him to stop being an idiot because no one in their right mind would send decent people back to Crowley.

Death and Tessa settle in easily, wanting nothing but the peace and quiet that Crowley didn't allow them. They decide to take up residence in the not-yet-finished pack house, helping with the final touches. Sam's glad — not just because they might be able to relocate to the new and much bigger house before Christmas. Sam likes the gentle Death, and Dean has taken to Tessa as well, so much that Sam thinks that Dean might have taken her as his beta, had he not been very, very happily mated to Gabriel. 

Mating season is close and Sam can feel it, this winter more than ever. He is restless and irritated, horny and needy. It might because that the pack is beginning to look like a real pack. It might be because Tessa and Ash has been circling each other for a few days, emanating pheromones and lust. It might be that Sam is about ready to be knotted. Or it might be the waxing moon that shines on the thin blanket of snow that covers the vast piece of pack land, stretching out under the starlit night that calls him.

Or it might be that Castiel smells so delightfully good that Sam can barely stand it. All he knows is that if he don't do _something_ soon, then he'll end up embarrassing himself and his alpha when his heat starts. 

They go back and forth between the old house in Lebanon and the new pack house, moving the last few boxes, getting ready for Winter Solstice and Christmas. It's no wonder that September is the most common birth month for most weres, the festivities and the happy mood are doing little to make the anticipation of matings and offspring fade. Sam is not ready for any offspring, but he is ready to be with Cas. To have more, much more than kisses.

Sam goes to look for Cas in the huge house. The rooms all smell of wood and some kind of floor wax but Cas's scent is clear and alluring.

Castiel is in their bedroom, making sure that the heavy, dark blue curtains are in place. They've brought the bed with them from the Lebanon house: Sam likes it and feels safe there, despite his nightmares. The poster bed has the feeling of _den_ to Sam. 

Castiel is a little jittery. Sam thinks that Cas is trying to avoid him. Cas leaves the curtains and directs his attention to the last of their clothes. He is folding their sweaters putting them onto a shelf in the walk-in. Sam sits down on the bed, quiet. Cas continues the unpacking, ignoring Sam's presence.

"Cas?" Sam finally gets up from the bed again, impatient. "Shouldn't I be doing that?"

"Because I apparently have alpha business to attend to?" Cas asks, putting an awful red and green knitted thing in on top of the other sweaters. "Never mattered to you before."

"I can think of some kind of alpha business that you should concentrate on." Sam walks closer, stopping only when Cas turns and leans against the shelves. Sam throws all care to the wind and pushes Cas up against them a little bit harder than he probably should have. 

Cas growls at him. "You're the most disobedient omega in the history of omegas. Let me work, you fool. We're never getting to the point of moving in if you continue to distract me."

"First of all, the most disobedient omega in the history of omegas is Gabriel, and secondly you like it." Sam pulls at Cas's hair, playfully grabbing a handful and uses it to tilt Castiel's head back. Sam nuzzles at Cas's neck. He smells so good. "You don't want any kisses, then? Not like you. But I came to ask you if you wanted to run with me? The weather is perfect, and I have some energy to burn."

Cas doesn't say anything. He shoves Sam away, Sam's back connecting with the shelves on the opposite wall. Castiel grabs him hard and slams his up against the sweater compartment and a few pieces of neatly folded knitwear slide down on the floor. Sam moans. God, he likes it. He loves it, every touch of Castiel's rough hands, the sharp edges of shelves digging into his back, the tingling sensation in his body. Sam lets out a small moan that escapes his hard-won control.

"What do you think, omega?" Castiel whispers. "Run with you in the snow, smelling you and your allure, or put away your clothes? Hard choice."

"So now I'm _omega_?" Sam teases, sensing that he maybe shouldn't. "My name is Sam."

Castiel's civilized polish is slipping. He rarely lets his alpha side show, that's not how he is, but now he has let it loose. "Mate," Castiel insists. "Mine." Castiel's arms tighten around Sam, and he presses his nose into the warm skin at Sam's throat. "Smell so good," Cas murmurs, startling Sam by nibbling at his neck. The old mating bite throbs, a small electric current between the bite and Cas's mouth. Sam wishes that Castiel would bite him again, adding another, warmer dimension to the one mating they ever had, horrible and cold as it was. "Your heat isn't too far away," Castiel whispers. "You smell like mating. You smell like mine."

Sam can't hold back a moan. Yes, he is near, and he likes how Castiel reacts to it. Sam wants Cas so badly, but he's still caught between what could have been and the reality of the now he has with Cas.

Perhaps sensing Sam's thoughts wandering, Castiel puts a hand between them, stepping away from Sam. There's a closed, warded look in his eyes and Sam thinks that Cas is afraid to get hurt."Let's run. Hunt. I'm hungry." 

So is Sam, but not for food.

The sunset is glittering with frost. The sun disappears in a bonfire of pink and orange, setting the horizon on fire before it disappears and leaves the land shrouded in a cobalt cape. Sam yips like a puppy, happy to be free to run with his mate. He sets off towards the trees; the scent of deer and fat mice is mouthwatering. Cas slides into a running shift, shredding clothes and human form as he catches up with Sam, almost invisible in the dark. His black wolf form seems to become one with the shadows, only the clear blue eyes still reflect the stars and the sky.

Sam has to stop for a moment. More immediate in the way he thinks, he has to stop. He needs to stop. Snuffling into Cas's ear, licking it, Sam makes an appreciative whine, as if to tell Cas how beautiful he is, how _allminematelove_ he is. A surge of fire runs through Sam's body, and he has to rein himself in as not to turn around, offering himself to Cas. 

Cas growls and snaps at Sam, immediately licking at his muzzle, as if to apologize. 

Sam knows the reason for Cas's sudden rejection. The thrumming feeling, as if his entire being needs Cas, he knows it. His heat has started. Sam sets off again, powerful claws digging into the frozen ground as he challenges his mate to catch him. 

Barking at him, Cas follows, and they run, as fast as they can, working off frustration and longing. Cas catches the scent of rabbit before Sam does, and for some time, they distract themselves with prey and meat and blood. It's a poor substitute, but right now it's what they have. 

The hunt might not be the best of ideas, however. He should have known, even before he suggested it. Running around in the woods in wolf form is liberating, but it also makes it harder to control his heat as it rises, relentless, despite the suppressants. The entire afternoon Sam is on the edge. His attraction to Cas, the maybe of falling in love, the longing, the excitement of moving into a new house... it all adds to the restlessness that Sam can barely keep to a manageable level. Castiel, too, might feel the same because he stays as far from Sam as he possibly can without actually being unhelpful when it comes to moving the last few boxes from the old house into their new bedroom.

When they are finally done, Castiel disappears so quickly that Sam is almost offended. Sam sort of hopes that Castiel is behaving strangely because he has a hard time controlling his urge to mate. If that is the case, it confirms that Sam made the right choice, saying yes to Castiel: he truly is a perfect alpha, polite and always respectful, putting Sam's needs before his own. Strong and capable and so very handsome, too. Sam wanders around in their bedroom for some time, realizing that he is pining for his mate.

Yeah, Sam's fucked. He's in love with his alpha, and he's feeling as if he is ready to swoon like an infatuated school boy.

There are times when Sam wishes that Castiel was a bit less gentlemanly. Sam flops down on the bed, unable to stop entertaining the idea of a less restrained Castiel. Sam wonders how it would be if Castiel decided to take what some might think is his right as an alpha. All right, so Sam would give it to him very willingly. Before, Sam always feared and detested this uncontrolled, instinctive mating. With Castiel? It's an entirely different matter because Sam knows that Castiel recognizes a no when he hears it. Sam still thinks that he might like it, seeing Cas's unrestrained desire. He trusts Castiel so much. It the mutual trust and respect, Sam believes, that makes him want to give himself up to the inner wolf. Sam wonders if Castiel is longing for him the same what that he has come to long for Castiel. For the first time in his life, Sam truly wants to give in to his omega instincts, and it's a different feeling than when his needs and wants were almost overruled by Lucifer. It is in no way the mindless desire he felt then. This is stronger, voluntary, mutual. At least he hopes it is mutual. 

Sam has only been knotted once in his life and it wasn't pleasant when Castiel took him on their mating night. Sam had been so caught then in the bond with Lucifer that nothing except for Lucifer's touch had felt good. The knotting had been duty, not pleasure. Sam's sure that it won't be like that again. If Castiel is willing to let his urges loose, Sam thinks that he might be in for a ride. He wonders what Castiel is going to be like if he agrees to still Sam's longing for him. Passionate, that much's a given. Relentless and hard and tender. Sam closes his eyes, wondering whether Cas would take him hard from behind or turn him on his back, fucking him deep and long until his knot ties them together. The knotting... it holds an allure. Sam wants to experience it, experience it the way that is meant to be: an act that ties alpha and omega together in more ways than the physical. He wants to spread himself out, wet and willing for Castiel, feel Cas's big dick in him, feel the knot, swollen with lust and semen deep in his body. Sam wants Castiel to fuck him, and make love to him, and to make up for all the nights they could have been in each others' arms, falling in love with each other. 

A small moan escapes him, sounding far too loud in the silence. "Fuck," Sam groans, pressing down on his cock with the heel of his hand, trying to ease the erection. It has the exact opposite effect. "Fuck," Sam moans again, this time rubbing himself. "Mm, Cas, fuck..." 

Unzipping his pants, Sam slides a hand down his boxer-briefs. He moans louder when the soft skin of his dick slides into the calloused hardness of his palm. Pinching a nipple through his t-shirt, Sam doesn't care about lube or finesse. He _wants_. He jerks off, immediately into it, enjoying the hard, painful, yet so pleasurable strokes. Yes, it'd be like that, Cas over him, demanding his submission, Sam giving it to him so very eagerly. Sam pushes his pants and boxers down a bit, spreading his legs as he fingers his hole, pushing a finger, then another into the slick heat. The sensation is almost too much, and despite being in a hurry, Sam doesn't want to come that fast. 

He wants to enjoy the thought of Castiel's dick in him, the swell of the knot, the drawn-out orgasm they will share, for Sam is sure that Cas will give him what he wants, taking his time with him. Another finger inside, and Sam writhes, close to the edge. Oh, Fenrir, he is Cas's mate to do with what he likes! Sam tries to hold back a little bit longer. "Cas... fuck, Cas... knot me! Fuck me!" Sam hisses the words through tight lips, thrusting four fingers deep into his needy channel. "Fuck, Cas!"

Orgasm hits him while he moans Cas's name over and over, so ready for his mate. At the height of this flood of pleasure, everything stops.

"Sam? Oh, God." Castiel is standing in the door, his face flushed red and his mouth barely closed after gasping out the words. He stares, eyes wide open, at Sam's wet hole, at the wet splashes on Sam's t-shirt. "Oh, God."

Cas turns around and flees, leaving the door ajar, and Sam utterly, utterly embarrassed. 

Okay, embarrassment set aside, there really isn't any way that Sam can put up for much longer the talk that he needs to have with his mate.

It's awkward to go downstairs to participate in their first dinner together as a pack. Sam isn't usually shy, but knowing that Cas has seen him like that, spread out, with his fingers up his own hole, moaning shamelessly for his mate... Yeah, awkward. Castiel does nothing but look, that blue-eyed look, eyes filled with questions and surprise, as if Sam has done something that makes Castiel rearrange his entire perception of Sam and of what Sam is and needs.

Sam's not sure whether Cas's strange behavior should be worrying or not. Ignoring it as well as possible, Sam enjoys the food. Ash might be a dork, but Jo and he have done wonders with a deer and some sweet potatoes. Still Sam prefers to flee from the hall that is their combined dining and living room. There is nowhere to hide. 

He doesn't get far. 

"We need to talk." Castiel usually asks nicely. He is still nice, but the tone of voice makes it clear that Castiel is only asking permission to be polite. "Let's go upstairs. I wish to speak to you in private."

Sam's okay with that, he understands why Cas isn't bothering with too much politeness. It's still embarrassing and strange, though, to wonder what Castiel might be thinking of him, naked and moaning. Oh, and it's arousing too because Sam still recalls the expression of raw need in the way Castiel looked at him. 

Cas leads the way to their room and Sam isn't sure what to expect. Maybe a lecture about their agreement about keeping to kissing and bonds and promises. What he doesn't expect is to be thrown on the bed, Cas over him, one hand on each side of Sam's head.

"Unf," Sam groans as his back hit the mattress none too gently. "Cas? What's this about?" By themselves, Sam's hands find their way up Castiel's thighs. "Did I do something wrong?"

"I saw you. I don't understand, Sam." Castiel sits up, straddling Sam's hips. "You made it clear that you need little from me, and still you..." Castiel blushes, the sudden alpha outburst gone. "You wanted."

"Sue me. You know I'm in heat and you look at me. And all you want from me is kisses and we never go further, and God, Cas," Sam rambles on, "I want you so badly that I don't know up from down, and it's not the heat speaking; I've felt like that for some time and can we please- could you just-"

"Sam?" Castiel puts a finger on Sam's lips. "Be quiet."

Sam nods, with no intentions of obeying and Castiel removes his finger.

"I think that I'm in love with you," Sam says, reaching for Cas, clutching at his t-shirt. He can just as well get it over with because he wants to know where he stands. "Totally in love with you. I don't want Lucifer. I want you! Lucifer can take his alpha shit and shove it. And if you're up to it, I want more than kissing. Right the fuck now."

"And the bond? You are still very... attached to the idea that you are bound to my brother." Castiel is quiet, holding himself still. "What about that?"

"Fuck the bond too. You saw me. What I did, thinking of you. You _know_ what I want and that is _you_. Any way you like it. And if you're not against it, then dammit, Cas! Give it to me!"

Sam's outburst makes Castiel laugh. He puts one hand on each side of Sam's face, leaning down to kiss him. "You are the bossiest omega in the history of werekind. How could I possibly refuse your royal demand, oh, master of mine?"

"Stop. Teasing. Me." Sam gives up. If Cas is not going to act, then Sam will. He grabs Castiel's t-shirt and pulls, wanting to get Cas naked in bed as fast as possible. "Cas, please. Tell me what you want." It''s satisfying to hear Castiel's satisfied groan as Sam's fingertips slide over his nipples.

"I want what I wanted from the moment I saw you. I want you to be my mate. My lovemate."

"Yes! Please, Cas? At least let me have more than kissing." Sam is aroused and needy and sometimes it's really, really annoying to have an alpha so much in control of his own urges. Sam wants to see Cas slip, to see him lose every inch of control he has. Cas is right for him, because there is no way that Sam would have given any other alpha that kind of submission. 

"Slow, Sam. One step at a time." Oh, Sam is sure that Castiel, innocent as he looks, is enjoying that he has the upper hand. Otherwise he wouldn't be so cruel. Or _sensible_. Sam wants anything but slow, but he'll take what he can get.

Castiel's kiss is butterfly-soft, despite Sam's whole-hearted attempt at rubbing himself against Castiel's thigh, egging him on. Sam could cry. He wants to be mated and knotted. He knows too that instinct is doing some of the talking, but certainly not all of it. He wants it hard, and he wants it now. Despite the suppressants, the pull of the Solstice heat is brutal. Sam is so wet, and he wants something inside him, fingers, cock, tongue, something! Taking matters in his own hand, Sam works his pants off. Not easy, caught under Castiel as he is. 

Cas finally caves. "Your scent." He moans and buries his nose at Sam's neck, licking over the old mating bite. It tingles, all the way to Sam's already rock-hard cock. 

"Yeah, Cas," Sam moans. "More."

Cas decides that every inch of Sam's skin needs to be examined. It's excruciatingly slow, Cas changing between light fingertips ghosting over Sam's chest and the sharp slide of nails down his inner thighs, something that makes Sam beg. "Again." He spreads his legs like he did when he was jerking off, letting Cas see what's his to take, deliberately tempting him. Cas's breathing is becoming more and more erratic, and he spreads Sam wide, pushing his thighs wide apart and up as he licks and kisses and scratches until Sam is so aroused that he can't think. All he can do is make little noises and beg. 

Finally Cas takes pity and without warning he sucks the head of Sam's dick into his mouth. It's warm and wet and glorious. Sam makes the mistake of looking down. Castiel's beautiful pink mouth is lush, lips stretched prettily around Sam's big dick as slides in. Sam almost comes on the spot. 

Cas isn't that experienced, Sam isn't sure how many lovers Castiel has had. They haven't talked much about it. Sam decides it doesn't really matter because Cas _likes_ what he's doing, the blissed out expression on his face as he takes Sam's dick in so deep it has to hurt. As he sucks, he plays with Sam's asshole, slipping the tips of his fingers in, rubbing over the sensitive flesh until Sam is fucking Cas's mouth relentlessly, wanting to come so bad, Cas taking everything he can get. 

Then Cas thrusts two, three fingers into Sam so fast it makes him see stars. There is no holding back. Sam comes so hard in Castiel's mouth that Cas can't manage to swallow, semen spilling over his lips. It's such an appealing sight that Sam, despite being all limp and relaxed, has to get up so he can lick and kiss Cas until any traces of Sam's come are gone, and the taste of his semen is properly shared between them. Cas sighs, content and excited at the same time. Sam reaches between Castiel's legs, massaging his cock, starting to jerk him off slowly. Cas groans and discards his pants clumsily, one leg still attached to his foot, before he leans back in the pillows, enjoying what Sam's doing. 

Sam fondles the base of Cas's cock, the knot a rapidly swelling under the skin. Leaning down to lick it, Sam certainly appreciates what it does to Castiel, having Sam's tongue all over him, in him. Cas is coming apart, and Sam _likes_ it. Flushed and with hands wandering, grasping for something to hold on to, Castiel is surprisingly interesting to play with. Sam uses some time, exploring, until Cas begs him to stop.

"I'm coming. Sam, wait..." 

If Castiel Nadanos, alpha to Sam Winchester, has expected mercy, he's asking the wrong person. Aroused by his mate's arousal, Sam is relentless. Licking Cas's cock and knot in long, wet strokes, Sam eases the tip of his fingers inside Castiel's ass, wet and twitching from Sam's tongue. 

"Sam!" Castiel makes a shout as he starts coming, the thin fluid spreading over his stomach, dripping down on the covers.

"God, Sam. Put them in! Cas moans so loudly that it's impossible that the assembly downstairs can't hear it, and it makes Sam strangely proud that he makes his alpha so hot and bothered." Sam uses his own juices to make his fingers slick and wet, sliding two fingers inside Cas as Sam licks at Castiel's knot. Sam is sucking at it eagerly as yet another pulse of clear come splashes over Cas's stomach. 

"Fuck, Cas!" Sam gasps between licks. "Didn't know that alphas were so eager to get it in the ass."

Castiel rocks his hips forward, grabbing Sam's hand to get his fingers deeper inside him. "Did never care what alphas should... oh... be. Dammit! Sam... come _on_!"

"Just fingers, Cas? Or do you want more?"

"Suck me!" Castiel cries out, as if the thought is too much for him. Sam is thrusts three fingers into him, leaning forward to suck at the tip of his cock. Sam continues until Castiel's words are unintelligible. Cas is pulling at Sam's hair, pulling him closer, inadvertently forcing to take Cas's leaking cock deep into his throat. Sam is getting hard again, he's getting off on it; he loves Cas's rough pulls and he certainly loves how aroused Cas gets, having his ass split open with as many of Sam's fingers as he can take. Sam pulls his fingers out a bit and slides finger number four inside, pulling at the rim.

Cas sounds as if he's going to die from pleasure. He arches up from the bed, his entire body hard strung, a beautiful bow of desire.

For some time, Cas let himself float on the pleasure. "Enough!"he finally moans, his eyes snapping open. Castiel is up in a second, grabbing Sam, slamming him down into the mattress. Before Sam can react, Cas is forcibly spreading his legs. "Yes or no, omega?"

Not the time for long explanations. Sam swallows nervously. There is no way that Cas's swollen knot can fit into him now. But he still trusts Cas not to hurt him. If Cas wants to be the big bad alpha in bed, Sam is so in! "Yes, alpha," Sam pleads, playing the game that Cas invites him to play. "All yours."

Sam is slick and open, ready for his alpha's cock. Castiel slides in in one long move, controlled enough to look for any signs of discomfort from Sam. He stops when the knot pushes against Sam's hole, forcing Sam more open. It feels fantastic as Castiel fucks him, teasing his ass. The thin seminal fluid runs down Sam's thighs as Castiel comes. "God, Sam," Castiel groans, continuing the erratic little thrusts into Sam's asshole, pressing his knot against the rim. "Wish I could come in you like this for hours."

Sam wraps his arms and legs around Cas, letting him take what he needs. Cas's outdrawn orgasm takes the main part of half an hour, and Sam can't remember ever having felt better. Cas's small content moans, little shudders of pleasure, the smell of Cas's semen smeared over their skin and their bed. The pulse of Cas's heartbeat drumming a quick rhythm, echoed in Sam's own chest. Cas's lips sucking vivid marks onto Sam's neck. It all speaks of connection and need and Sam loves it. Sam doesn't let go until Cas is utterly spent and almost unconscious from coming so hard and long. Gently, Sam kisses Cas and helps him under the covers.

The bed is a mess, but Sam doesn't care. They have made love, mated, fucked, and fuck the rhetorics, it was grand. 

"Never thought we'd get to this," Castiel murmurs sleepily, defenseless in his near-sleep. "Hoped. Had to hold back, didn't want to get hurt."

"Didn't know it would be so good with you," Sam murmurs. He really didn't. They both know that the only man Sam was thinking of for a while was Lucifer. Sam understands where Castiel is coming from, though. He understands Cas's need to protect himself, and it makes Sam a little sad. He is not sad that Cas wanted him from the moment they met, of course not. But Sam _is_ sad that he wasn't able to love Cas from the start. Maybe that's why Cas was so distant on their mating night—because he didn't want to get hurt by falling deeper than he already had. Sam get that. Using time on regretting what cannot be changed is a waste of time. But the future, every moment they have together... Sam can use that time to make it up to Cas for his patience, for his care and love and every second they spent together that led them to this moment of blissful happiness. There has never been a man, an alpha more right for Sam than Castiel, and he is grateful that Castiel is his.

Sam feels strangely free, being bound to Castiel in all ways that matter. 

As Sam turns into Castiel's embrace, a tangle of relaxed limbs, it is like the pain of the tattered bond fades. Okay, so the ache and the longing for Lucifer hasn't been that hard to bear lately, and as Sam lies in Castiel's arms, the bond feels mostly like an annoying itch. If that's how sex with Castiel works, they're definitely going to have more of it. A lot more. 

Sam stretches languidly, making little content noises that makes Cas open his eyes and smile up at him. Sam rolls over on his side, unable to keep his hands off Cas. Sam explores for some time the hills of the shoulder blades and the slight dip between back and the enticing curve of Cas's ass. "We should have done this earlier," Sam confesses. "I feel better." Leaning in, Sam kisses his lover gently, with love, but his desire put to a low simmer. "Hard to think of another man when you're so enthusiastic and I'm head over heels for you. I want to do it with you again."

"You think I was made for your entertainment solely? Sam, really." Cas laughs and pushes Sam down, sliding a leg across his thigh, the lazy attitude sliding off him. "You forget that you're mine, and that it's my duty to use you for _my pleasure_ ," Cas growls, making Sam's body tingle with need. He's too tired to do it again right away, but God, does he want to!

"Not against that," Sam says, baring his throat so that Cas can kiss it. "As long as I get more of you." He wraps arms and legs around Cas, wanting to hold on to him, to touch him as much as he is allowed. Cas groans, content and relaxes into Sam's embrace. Slowly Cas's breathing and body become heavier. Sam thinks that Cas is asleep, worn out too, by their love-making. 

Lying in their bed, entangled with Castiel, Sam is at peace. He's at peace with himself, he's at peace because he will be loved. He is happy that he is finally able to love Castiel back. He is happy that what they have might be _enough_. It just might. It's a happier end than Sam ever hoped for. Being bound to Lucifer for the rest of his life suddenly presents no allure at all. The difference is that Lucifer wasn't a choice. 

Castiel is. Castiel is Sam's choice, and he is happy with it. He is happy, and it's all because of Cas. 

If it's the last thing he does, he'll make sure that Cas is happy, too.

The peace is of course temporary. It's the way it has always been with the Winchesters. It's the quiet before the storm. The quiet in between storms.

The day before Christmas, the pack gets an unexpected addition. It's noon when the doorbell rings. They are not expecting anybody; they're living in the bloody nowhere for that exact reason, not to have to people dropping by. Sam, still giddy and sated from the morning's love-mating with Cas, answers the door. Outside are two young men whom Sam doesn't know.

"I'm Inias, Castiel's cousin," the older one says, studying Sam for a moment. "You're Castiel's mate? Sam Winchester?"

"Yeah, I am."

"Samandriel." The younger and, Sam has to admit, very cute guy, smells of omega in heat. "Sorry to disturb. We thought that we might..." Samandriel does look very young and doe-eyed. "Can we stay? Please?"

"Stay?" Sam asks. "Like in _let's stay for Christmas_ , or, like in _we need to make an addition to the house_?" Sam smooths over the slightly harsh question with a welcoming smile. "It'd be good to know, because, you know... we actually have to call the workers if you're staying for more than a few weeks."

"We've left the Nadanos pack," Inias says. "We rebelled against Lucifer's rule, and he was not happy. I'm beta, and Samandriel... Lucifer wanted him bred and mated to an alpha from another pack, and Samandriel is sixteen and it would be rape, because he doesn't want to mate. Lucifer didn't take it well, being contradicted." Inias rubs his arm, the sleeve sliding up a bit. There are gashes, stitched-up gashes, as if someone has been tearing at it with teeth and claws. "We ran before Lucifer sent Samandriel away. Lucifer demanded that he was bred during his Solstice heat."

Appalled, Sam feels sick. He feels sick hearing Lucifer's name. He feels sick that the Lucifer's traditionalism has taken a turn for the worse. Sam studies Samandriel for a few seconds. Fear, innocence, hope. There is no way they Sam is sending them away. "Dean? Cas? Get the others," Sam shouts, knowing that he can decide for himself and the pack; he doesn't have to await Dean's approval. But it's not the way it's done. They are not like other packs, and Sam wants his mate and the alpha couple to take the decision with him. He wants the entire pack to take the decision with him.

Not that there is much to discuss. Inias and Samandriel stay. And Sam? Sam is so fucking _done_ with Lucifer and his crap.

Seated around the giant dining table in the hall, the entire Winchester pack gather to welcome their potential pack members, and to listen to the news from the Nadanos pack.

"Lucifer has gone mad. He wasn't exactly normal before, and it's getting worse. I'm sorry, but he's obsessed with Sam. He doesn't want to accept that Sam is mated and unavailable." Inias looks nervous at the mere thought of Lucifer.

Sam, in turn, isn't nervous. He stood up to Lucifer before, and he will do it again. Sure,, there are still some remains of a bond that genetics created between them, telling him that they'd be good for each other, or rather that their genes would. Castiel has been the perfect cure. Even now, discussing Lucifer, Sam only senses the bond like a vague headache, nothing painful. It's really painful, though, to think of how Lucifer has mistreated the pack that his father left him to care for. Castiel's and Lucifer's father has to be a giant asshole, leaving the alphas of the pack in a situation where they can't even fight to be its new pack leader, ensuring some kind of consistency. No wonder the Nadanos pack is falling apart.

It is, in Sam's opinion, the utmost defeat for a pack alpha, having the members of a pack running loose, searching for a new pack that will take them in. 

"My brother loves too much," Castiel argues, displaying a peculiar and unexpected love for his older brother. "That was always his problem. I am not trying to come up with excuses for him, though. He forgets the pain he causes in favor of getting what he wants. Strange kind of love, to want something and then break it because no one else is allowed to have what Lucifer covets. And he's not mad. He is merely pretending that he is, because it will make people pity him instead of shunning him. There is nothing he won't do, manipulating people into supporting him. I can't stress enough how dangerous he is."

"What do you suggest we do, Castiel?" Death looks worried. He doesn't appreciate the relative peace he'd been looking for to be ruined by a war with another pack. "Clearly, sending Inias and Samandriel back is unacceptable. They should stay, join us as they have asked." Death calmly straightens up in the chair, looking from one pack member to the next. "You have welcomed us here, Tessa and me. I will not sit back idly when my chosen pack is in danger. If it comes to it, I will fight."

Dean nods at Death's words. "Thank you. You are a legendary warrior, Crowley's executioner. You came here to find solace, and we will never ask of you that you should stand up and fight. What you choose is up to you."

"We'll all fight. If it comes to that, we fight." Ash stands, his thin, lean frame fragile compared to the rest of them. "Samandriel and Inias stay."

"Hear, hear!" Tessa and Jo stand too. "Samandriel and Inias stay. We fight."

Castiel remains seated. He nods at Inias. "You know Lucifer like I do, Inias. I welcome you here, for you are a beloved blood brother to me. You thought only of Samandriel. He suffered at the hands of Lucifer, and this pack should be your sanctuary. Only you played Lucifer's game all along. He wanted you here, wanted you to provide him with a reason to go here, to come as the wronged leader of another pack." Castiel leans forward, his hands folded on the table. "Lucifer has no intentions of getting into a fight for dominance with Dean. Lucifer doesn't fight unless he provoked or if he cannot avoid it. He will come here with promises of alliance, luring each of you in. He will offer every one of you what you want the most. If there ever was a silken tongue, Lucifer has it. And unfortunately his voice is every bit as dangerous as the entire Nadanos pack combined. He will sow strife and he will make us fight among ourselves. If we let him." Castiel's face turns dark. "He will come here with the intention of luring Sam from us. From me. He is coming for my mate and he will not leave until he has him."

Only then does Castiel stand. He's quiet for seconds, looking at them as he slides halfway into his wolf form, still human enough to speak. He is magnificent. "Sam Winchester is _mine_!" he finally roars, his voice rough, all dominance and wolf. "I will kill anyone who tries to take him away from me!"

The roar vibrates through Sam's body, through his soul. He has never felt more wanted, more protected, more loved.

Jesus fuck, he didn't think he could fall deeper in love with Castiel.


	8. Come and Take Refuge in My Shade

Christmas morning is happier than any Christmas morning that Sam ever had, despite the threat of Lucifer's revenge hanging over their heads. Within Sam's small family they never had much of a holiday celebration. They were hunters. This one particular morning? It's like Christmases should be. There are presents, although some of them don't go to their original recipients. Nobody finds that Samandriel and Inias should feel left out.

There's a fire merrily burning in the gigantic fireplace; there's enough room there to spit roast a pig. Gabriel makes breakfast in the kitchen, and as with anything else Gabriel does, it's exaggerated and far too much. It's also mouthwateringly delicious. Sam's munching on a piece of crispy bacon, while Castiel is at it with burgers and fries. Gabriel doesn't care for tradition, either, when it comes to what belongs on a Christmas morning breakfast table. 

Sam is wearing the fluffy mohair scarf that Castiel gave him, and Castiel, in turn, is wearing the hoodie that Sam found for him. It has a print of two wolves under the moon on the front. Samandriel and Inias look less haunted than they did yesterday, both eating as if they haven't seen proper food for days. Samandriel is petting the iPad that Dean originally bought for Gabriel, and Inias looks relaxed and happy as he sits in front of the fireplace, reading a book which should have been a gift from Death to Ash.

Everything is peaceful.

Until Sam's phone rings.

That is when Sam fully understands that Anna Milton-Nadanos truly is his friend.

He puts the phone down, the Christmas cheer less than cheery. "It was your sister-in-law," he tells Castiel. "Anna."

The distress that Sam feels must be obvious to Cas for he's at Sam's side immediately. "What happened?"

Dean, too, is up from his chair. "Sammy?"

Sam can hardly say it. His heart beat so hard that he's choking on every painful breath he takes. "Lucifer. He's coming." Sam wants to sink down in a chair, allowing himself to be weak but he can't. He keeps standing because he knows he must. "She doesn't know when he left. The pack jet is gone, she says."

"Fuck me," Dean growls. "The Nadanos pack has a fucking jet?"

"It belongs to the company," Castiel explains. "Not that it changes anything. I'll call the airport and ask when he left."

"Does he bring anyone with him?" Gabriel looks worried. "If he's taken Lilith and Ruby, we're in deep shit. They are betas, and they are _vicious_. Their allegiance is to Lucifer. And there is nothing they won't do for him."

"Anna said that she thought that Lucifer was alone. No guarantees."

Gabriel looks pleased in the middle of their misery. "Anna has taken a great risk, warning you, kiddo. Although Michael is probably elated that Lucifer has done something this stupid. He'll rub his hands in glee if Lucifer gets himself killed, trespassing on our territory. He'd have prevented Anna from warning us if he'd been concerned about Lucy's health."

"Let's not have it come to that," Castiel demands. "He's my brother and I loved him once as did you, Gabriel. He's blinded by his instincts, and although he should know better, I would prefer if we abstained from killing him unlawfully. He is has probably planned for some time to come here. Sam is in heat and the mating season at its highest..." Castiel shakes his head, as if to deny that Lucifer is able to affect Sam. "Lucifer comes here now because he thinks Sam won't be able to control himself in the presence of his bondmate."

"He's not my bondmate," Sam growls. "And he will never be. He's holding a piece of broken rope, and it won't get him anywhere. Or me. I have a lovemate now."

"He better keep his dick and his dick moves in his pants, or I'll tear him apart," Dean growls. He crosses his arms, underlining that it's not up for debate. "He is not gonna go near my baby brother. I'm gonna rip his arms off, then we'll see how he likes it, trying to touch Sam again. No hands, no cookies."

That said baby brother is half a head taller and twice as strong as Dean doesn't seem to bother him much. Sam lets it slide. He knows deep down that he _is_ susceptible to Lucifer's allure. He firmly believes that he'll be able to stand Lucifer's temptations. The bond is broken, although it doesn't always feel like it. Castiel's presence makes Sam able to ignore it. Sam hopes that Castiel might also be able to be the pillar of support if Lucifer tries to get to him. It's going to be difficult, Sam doesn't want to lie to himself, if Lucifer stands right in front of him, the constant need of the heat aching in his body. Reaching for Cas, Sam allows himself to relax into Castiel's embrace for a minute or two, letting his mate's scent wash over him. 

"I won't let him take me," Sam whispers, holding on to Cas so tightly that it makes Cas groan. "I'm yours."

"You are mated to me. Mine." Castiel sounds awfully determined. More on edge than usual, Cas's canines are slightly elongates. The moon is not up, but the pull is there, making it so much harder to hold on to one's human form. "I am not letting him take you against your will." 

Sam frowns. There's something wrong with that sentence. "Cas? Against my will? You're saying that you'd let me go, if-"

"Free will is not limited to events and actions I like, Sam. If you choose him over me, I would never hold you back if that was what you truly wanted. It's your right as a free omega."

Cas is right. But it sounds so damned wrong. "I am not _free_ , Cas!" Sam snaps, wanting Cas to understand that Sam is bound to him with ties so much stronger than those that once bound him to Lucifer for a brief instant. "If I'm not with you-"

Before Sam can say more, the doorbell _doesn't_ ring, but clearly Lucifer Nadanos does not do politeness when there is something he wants. Instead the front door is slammed open so hard it's almost pulled off its brand new hinges. 

Sam is in a fighting stance immediately, Castiel next to him. Cas puts a calming hand on Sam's back. "Don't," Cas whispers. "Not yet."

Dean is swift, in a few giant leaps, fanged and furred, he is in front them, Gabriel at his side. Death and Tessa come running to aid them, both calm. There are no questions asked, only quiet support of their pack alpha. Ash and Jo are with Samandriel; he is obviously scared, wide-eyed and pale. Inias steps forward next to Gabriel, without words promising Dean his allegiance. 

Dean slides fluently into his full human shape, as if to tell Lucifer that he scares no one here enough to warrant their wolves. Dean finally cares to comment on Lucifer's unexpected appearance. "Hello, douchebag. And goodbye," Dean drawls. "You know where the door is; don't let it slam you in the ass on your way out. Try not to pull it off the hinges entirely, it's a bore to get workers out here."

Lucifer huffs arrogantly although he pales visibly as his eyes find Death. "I see you have found Crowley's leftovers."

"The only leftover here is you." Sam steps forward. "I suggest you leave before any of our alphas get less vocal and more in favor of a hands-on approach when it comes to cutting your visit short."

"Sammy." The name slides over Lucifer's lips, velvet soft and sweet. "My mate..." Lucifer's features turn soft and he looks at Sam as if he was the second coming of Christ. "Come to me, Sam, please?" Lucifer holds out a hand, almost beckoning Sam. They all know it isn't a plea. It's a velvet-wrapped order. "Come, Sam."

It's like a caress and Sam is taken aback by how honey-tongued Lucifer is. He can hardly help himself from stepping forward to greet the man to whom he is still bound, if only by the frayed remains of something that could have been. "Leave." Sam can feel himself slipping. He doesn't dare speak; he fears that Lucifer can hear the doubt and the weakness in his voice. 

Lucifer turns to Dean. "Give me my mate," he says, almost kind, like he'd be asking a child to go to bed or wash his hands before dinner. It's the demand of a loving parent. "That is all I want. The rest o-" 

"My apologies, brother, but Sam is my mate," Castiel interrupts. "Not yours. According to pack law, I must remind you that Sam-" 

"So civilized, dear Castiel. A nice polish. You were our pack lawyer once. Such an obedient soldier you were. You have changed, and not for the better. Our father would be so disappointed. All this talk about law..." Lucifer's face is a disgusted grimace. "Give him up. You are not worthy of him. You are weak. If you were strong, you would have changed into your wolf form and challenged me."

"You'd prefer we did this as wolves?" Dean growls. "Well, I'll be happy to oblige, because I hear that you usually avoid fighting but manipulate other wolves into doing your dirty work for you." Dean turns to Gabriel. "Maybe we should commend your brother for his bravery, actually showing up alone. I suppose he'd know that we'd have no respect whatsoever for a cowardly asshole."

"You think you get to be pack leader of the Nadanos pack if you are not able to fight?" Lucifer asks softly. "You will be sorely disappointed if you think you can best me in combat, puppy."

"I'm sure you don't, but how does that apply to you?" Dean snorts, glaring arrogantly at Lucifer. "You are not the leader of the Nadanos, and you have no power here. Last, chance, Lucy. Leave or there will be a fight. I will hunt you down and tear you apart if you don't stop harassing my brother and his mate. Sam is not yours. He will not become yours. The sooner you get it, the sooner you'll learn to live with the fact that the sun doesn't shine out of your ass. And that no one here cares lick to it, either."

"Give me my bondmate, alpha," Lucifer demands, "and I shall spare you all. Except for my sanctimonious little brother. He had the audacity to touch what is mine, and he shall die for it."

"Right. Of course. That is, no." Dean studies his fingernails casually, watching them turn into vicious-looking claws. "And if you have that much trouble understanding a no, I'll be happy to teach you the difference between yes and no. Shouldn't be anything a punch or two to your face can't cure. Now be a nice boy. Piss off and never come back, and I shall spare you. Next time you try to mess with my brother I'm not going to be as generous."

Lucifer's patience has its limits. He is still sweetening the demands, but there is cracks in the sugar-coated cover. "Who decided that this Neanderthal is fit to be the leader of your weak little pack? You," Lucifer points at Gabriel, "should have known better. Really, Gabriel? Slumming with the bottom feeders? Come home with me, brother, and I shall reinstate you in the pack. You will be a cherished mate for one of my top alphas. I'll give you to Kali."

"Getting behind in the temptation department, bro?" Gabriel looks intensely bored. "First of all, _nobody_ is gonna give it to me as good as Dean does, and Kali is missing something important, you know, no dick and shit. Secondly, you have no say over the Nadanos pack, and you know it. Dad will come back and give your bony ass a good kicking, and that's the only thing I'll ever regret, leaving my old pack: that I don't get to see it. Also, while you're at it, ask yourself why the fuck I would swap freedom with the less than agreeable experience of seeing your sourpuss face every morning. Christ, bro... You're delusional."

Ignoring the letdown, Lucifer instead directs his attention to Castiel. "And you, little brother. It makes me so sad that you betrayed me so. I can understand how you took Sam Winchester to take revenge on me, but you were always forgiving. Give him back to me, and let's forgive each other, and we can go back to being brothers. You were always so rigorous in your ways, the Nadanos pack would flourish under your lead. Let me help you, Castiel, to become the leader that our father never was."

"Excuse me," Castiel says, looking at Sam. "It sounds to me as if this is getting abundantly pathetic?"

"It's fiction. It's supposed to be pathetic." Sam gags, pretending to be way more relaxed than he is. They are all pretending. 

Lucifer begins to understand that arguing his case is a lost battle. A master of temptation, perhaps, but he needs a willing audience. Sam suddenly sees clearly what it is Lucifer tries to do, offering each of them what he thinks they would want. Only Lucifer really has no idea that he's preaching to a choir that sings quite another tune than the one Lucifer is singing—their way of living is so very far from how Lucifer lives and thinks. Sam chuckles at the thought, and it is as if the shackles of the bond dropping to the ground, useless. 

Lucifer's face changes from a kind facade into a mask of utter rage. He turns to Dean. "I should challenge you, alpha, and take over your useless little group. Take them with me. The Nadanos pack can always use more servants."

Sam steps in front of Dean, pulling his determination tight around him, as if it can protect him against the remains of his attraction to Lucifer. "That is not how it works in our pack, Lucifer. You are being rude. See, no one gets to be pack alpha here by fighting for it. We chose Dean to lead us; that is the way in the Winchester pack: we choose our leader. Let's just say that you are never going to be chosen. Were you the last alpha on earth, we'd still not choose you. You may be able to control you own pack with your outdated beliefs, but you have no say over our pack or me. None."

"Oh, Sam, how it pains me to see you like this. Any alpha worth his name would protect you, he would never let you stand here in front of me, exposed and abandoned by your cowardly pack to fend for yourself. Let me protect you, my mate. Please, let me protect you."

Behind Sam, Cas, Dean and Death laugh. "Oh, we've heard that record before. How about something new?" Dean raises an eyebrow, looking utterly bored. "Okay, I've heard enough, let's throw the guy out."

"If this spoiled brat and his temper tantrums actually presented a threat," Death says, "I'd be a little scared. Maybe. Then again, no."

"Quiet, dog!" Lucifer lashes out as if he was able to cast some kind of curse, just by waving his hand. "This is none of your concern."

"You've got that right, boy," Death says. "Sam has everything under control. Why would I care about someone so insignificant?" Death shifts into his were shape, a slender greyhound, all speed and hunt. He jumps into one of the deep armchairs, turns around three times and lies down as if he couldn't care less about Lucifer. There is no possible way that anyone could have expressed any more clearly how unimpressed they all are with Lucifer. United, they are invincible. But lying in the chair, Death's eyes are as sharp as ever, and Sam's sure that Death will go directly for Lucifer's throat at the tiniest sign that things aren't as controlled as they appear.

Lucifer is not done. "Sam, you don't mean this. You do remember how it was between us? Don't tell me that you are no longer mine? You still feel the attraction, I can see it in your eyes." Lucifer looks at Sam as if there is no one else in the world. "Sam, I love you. You're my mate, and I will agree to everything you could possibly ask of me. Everything. If you let me have you."

It's impossible for Sam to remain cold. Yes, he remembers. The good things and the bad. The feeling when the bond pulled them together, that instant of immense happiness and completion. The one aspect that he will never experience again, bound to Cas as he is with love and care and the connection that their lovemating creates between them, renewing it with every kiss, every embrace. Sam hesitates only the instant of a second. The broken bond is struggling to heal, calling upon all his instincts, his heat. With the full moon looming over them, Sam is dying to submit to Lucifer.

Lucifer starts walking towards Sam, holding out his hand as if to beckon Sam to come to him. Dean is about to step in, but Castiel holds him back. "No. It has to be Sam's decision, nobody else's. I trust my mate. I believe in the love he has for me."

Sam wants to scream at Lucifer that he does not know what love is. He wants to fall on his knees in front of Castiel, declaring him to be the love of his life, begging him to take him away from Lucifer. Only when Lucifer touches him, every thought that makes sense, Sam's sense of self, is gone. He's back where they started, to the moment when the bond formed and tied them together for eternity. "Lucifer," Sam breathes, all the pent up longing wanting out as he puts his hand in Lucifer, almost fainting when they finally connect.

"Mate." Lucifer's voice is soft as cream. "Come to me, Sam. You're mine. All mine. Say yes."

Blindly Sam clings to Lucifer's hand. It's wrong. He can feel it. Wrong. All wrong. It's like poisoned wine, like the bright day turning into a velvet-black night filled with monsters. Like love turned onto its head, wrung into a distorted, ruined image of what a bond should be. Sam gasps, nausea almost overwhelming. Lucifer pulls Sam into his arms. Sam goes willingly and reluctantly at the same time. "Let us be bondmates again, my love," Lucifer whispers into his ear, his breath damp and silken. "One word, and you can reject that weak excuse for an alpha who has stolen you and your love from me. My little brother, stealing your love and your destiny from you."

That is it. The one thing that Lucifer could say that would make Sam wake up and break the enchantment. "Cas never stole anything from me," Sam growls, fighting Lucifer's suffocating touch. "I _gave_ my love to him, and I will continue to love him until the day I die!" Sam places a hand onto Lucifer's chest and pushes, wanting to get away from him. "I love him. I love Cas so much that the bond of duty I had with you is a pale and distorted abomination compared to the bond of love I have with him."

"You don't mean that, Sam, you're mi-"

"Shut up!" Sam can feel his determination growing strong, immensely strong. "There might be a bond between us, but I renounce it. Yes, that's it. I fucking _renounce_ it," he rages. "I will _never_ say yes to you. I love Castiel, and the sooner you understand that, the better." Sam's strength is returning, his mind clearing, his instincts roaring in protest, but Sam kicks them to the curb. "I am Castiel's mate and _you_ are but a disturbance." Sam stands proud, looking Lucifer in the eyes, an outright challenge. "And if you need it, I'll happily go with tradition and challenge you, we can fight to the death if you want. _Your_ death. And if you're too much of a coward to accept a challenge, then get out of Winchester territory before I claw you in the face and ravage you until not even your own father would be able to recognize you. You're a trespasser and the pack council will never blame me for killing you." Sam presses his claws into his palms, willing Lucifer to leave, before it turns ugly. It's the last thing he wants. He does not want to kill Lucifer, but if Lucifer leaves him no choice, Sam will do what is necessary.

Lucifer turns cold with rage, the gentle Lucifer is gone. Sam stares at him and suddenly he understands that under that cold rage is something else: fear. Lucifer might have ruled his faction of the Nadanos pack with fear, and he does not understand this united front of alphas and omegas, each of them not as strong as their opponent. But united they are stronger. They don't give a damn that Lucifer is a high-ranking alpha. 

Lucifer has lost, and in that moment Sam can see it. His heart breaks for Lucifer again, because Sam understands what they could have been like, had Lucifer not been so set in his ways. Sam would have loved him, and they would have been happy together. Sam has to bite back the tears he would like to cry for this flawed man, for what could have been. They stare into each other's eyes for seconds, Sam's soul bared, until Lucifer looks away, defeated, his rage put out by the slow slide of a single tear. 

Behind Sam, Castiel shifts into his wolf form. The black wolf, raised hackles and flashing teeth, slides up against Sam's leg. On his other side, Tessa stand by them, ready to attack. Gabriel and Dean step up too. Death is down from the chair again, all prey-eyed, shifting from one front paw to the other, the only sign of tension from him. Ash and Jo are at Castiel's side. Jo, more fond of guns than of her wolf form, cocks a shotgun that she has procured, God knows from where. Inias and Samandriel are behind Sam, Inias brushing a hand over Sam's shoulder to let him know they are with him. They are probably scared, but they'll surely defend their new pack, no matter what.

Arrogantly Lucifer glares, collecting the shards of his superiority. "You stole from me not only my love, but my pack members as well," he begins, his full attention on Castiel. "Inias and Samandriel here? That is the ultimate betrayal, little brother-"

"Oh, come off it, Lucy." Gabriel, too, has had enough. "Inias and Samandriel are pack, and they are here by choice. They are _our_ pack, and we don't care about you. Go home. Next time we see you on our territory, you're dead. And that's a promise." Gabriel holds up his right hand as if to swear. Instead razor sharp claws snap out from the tips of his fingers, faster than a switchblade. "Your choice, bro."

"I came here to save you the indignity of aligning yourself with the riff-raff you have taken up with," Lucifer sighs. "Such a beautiful omega, ruined and tainted by such..." Lucifer makes a face. "I am so sorry for you, Sam, but I see now that you are broken, contaminated with impurity and-" He makes a dramatic gesture, indicating the entire Winchester pack. "I will let you go, because I understand there is no longer a road to redemption for you, my omega. I can no longer be responsible for your happiness." Facing the large and very determined opposition, Lucifer is determined to make it look as if he makes a gracious and merciful retreat. They all know it's a lie, but if it can prevent a killing, so be it.

It's Gabriel who stops it. "Door, Lucy. Now. Record's broken, and it's Christmas."

Lucifer huffs in contempt of his brother's betrayal, or that's at least how Lucifer will perceive it. Not that it matters. Without a word, Lucifer turns on his heel and walks out the front door, his back angry and tense. 

Sam holds his breath long enough to gasp for air when he finally remembers that he can't live without oxygen. They all stare silently at the open door long enough to hear the sound of a car that is driven off their property in the most reckless way.

As the sound of the car fades, Death shifts. He picks up his pants. "Tessa and I will patrol." He sends Sam a worried look. "You better tend to your omega, Castiel."

"Yes, please." The adrenalin that has kept Sam strong and alert fades too, and the shock takes over. Lucifer. God almighty. Sam is close to hyperventilating. He stood his ground and refused the one bond that was all he wanted for so long. It makes Sam dizzy to think about it. "Fuck, shit. Damned." Sam curses because he doesn't know what's up and down and he needs something to hold on to, else he'll fall. 

Castiel's naked arm is warm and strong. "Shh, it's over, Sam. Come on." Castiel pulls Sam with him, walking slowly towards the wide staircase. "Let's go upstairs, get you something to drink."

Sam's too far out to make any protests. He follows Cas, because that he can do. It's simple. One step, then another, the soft touch of hands on his waist. It's safe and easy. He can do that. Touch. Skin. Warmth. Cas.

Castiel turns on the light in their bedroom. Sam is suddenly very glad they decided to take the old bed with them to the new house. Now it represents safety and den to him and he _needs_ it. Sam's mind is tumbling over in a jumble of feelings. It's a kaleidoscope of emotions and Sam can't take it much longer. He stumbles, falls down on one knee on the soft rug in front of the bed. He cries out at the unexpected pain. It's physical, and it's inside him, too, tearing at his soul. Lucifer, Castiel... Sam tears up, the bitter taste of his choice overwhelming the sense of triumph.

He has lost Lucifer forever, and because he loves Cas so much, shouldn't it feel different?

"Slow, Sam. Relax, nothing's gonna happen." Castiel guides Sam down to sit on the floor, one strong hand around his waist. 

Sam wants to vomit, as if turnings his intestines inside out can erase the memory of the bond, preventing it from reaching out again to the mate he missed so intensely. "I can't, Cas! I don't... I want you so much, I _need_ you," he groans, months of unshed tears and repressed emotions pressing from the inside, wanting to manifest. The bond echoes inside him, awoken by Lucifer's presence, and killed by it. It feels like a thin, sharp silver thread reaching for the unattainable, for something that is not there. Sam's soul is split in two, compartmentalized. He instincts make him want for his bondmate, but his heart... that's an entirely different matter. Sam looks up, still kneeling, into the sky of Castiel's eyes. 

"I don't want Lucifer, not if I were tied to him with so many ropes that I couldn't move. I don't want him. I don't' want him to ever touch me again." Sam bites his lip, knowing that he has to tell Cas what he has known for some time. He doesn't just think that he might be in love with Castiel. It's more. It's everything. "I love _you_ ," Sam whispers. "God, Cas, I love you so much!"

"Oh, Sam!" Castiel is for once less than eloquent. He slides down, one hand wiping Sam's tears away as the other pulls him close, flush against Cas's chest. "Then stop fighting. Let it loose."

Clueless to what Castiel means, Sam chokes on tears and emotions. He takes a shuddering breath, closing his eyes to enjoy the loving touch of Cas's fingers on his skin. "I don't know whether you're truly in love with me," Sam says, earning him a frown from Cas, one he sees disappearing as he opens his eyes. "I know we don't... mate... fully." He meets Castiel's eyes, a gaze brimming with need. "Could you... just this once?" It's not the heat talking, Sam has that under control. It's a different need, one that is bone-deep and urgent. "I want you to make love to me."

"Yes." Castiel tilts his head slightly to one side and looks at Sam in that way, as if he's looking into his broken soul, trying to figure out what's wrong with it. "I think it would please me, Sam Winchester."

Sam clenches at Cas's shirt. "Please!" He's so hungry for more than kisses, so hungry for Castiel's touch, for the warmth and strength that fold itself around Sam, making him feel so safe and cherished. He needs Cas, needs to feel that he belongs to him, needs to know that he's Cas's mate, his to care for. 

"Let the bond loose, Sam. Let it go." Cas moves in, so close that his mouth no is longer visible to Sam, but Cas's lips are dry, full lips whispering damp caresses onto his cheek. "Let it loose. Just let go and follow it where it goes."

Sam doesn't want to — he knows where it will lead him, and he is so not going there. But he trusts Cas, and if that is what Cas wants, then Sam won't argue. There are more pleasant tasks to perform. Castiel is so close, and there is nothing but blue eyes and soft, soft lips. Castiel kisses him, all hot and wet. The kiss is spiced with the tinges of a content moan, and Sam does what Cas asked him, following the desperate need and desire that make up his broken bond, searching for its source. He lets himself _feel_ it, truly feel it, for the first time in months, and the impact is staggering. He is dizzy with suppressed sensations and longings, so heavy that it's almost impossible to stay upright. Castiel's arm around his waist rests there, strong and sure, holding him up. 

Then a jolt goes through them, as if they were hit by lightning. It's like a natural disaster: the earth shakes and the world tilts in a way that Sam has never experienced before. The sorrow he has carried with him since the moment he denied Lucifer is gone, leaving but a faint memory of what could have been. It's all washed away with what _is_. His homeless love has found a place to stay, for the severed bond feels whole again, a shiny, silvery thread that starts in Sam's broken heart, healing it with each heartbeat. 

"Cas?" Gasping for air, crushed under the weight of what he has denied for months, Sam shakes his head, as if to clear it. "It's... God, it's..." Sam stares wide-eyed at Cas, utterly confused and stunned at the same time. "It's- you- we're-" Sam gasps, remembering to breathe. He is in a state of shock and arousal. "The bond? We're _bondmates_?" 

"Yes," Cas says, as if he'd know all the time. He even cocks an eyebrow. "So?"

"I don't understand," Sam whispers, licking his lips, breathing in the sweet, heavy scent of his alpha and lovemate. His body thrums with the desire to mate and surrender to his alpha. "How? How can we be bondmates when I'm already-" 

"Does it hold any particular significance to you? Getting a scientific explanation?" Cas says, his hand sliding into Sam's hair, messing it up even more. Cas grabs a handful, uncharacteristically bossy. He leans over Sam, pushing him down on the bed. "Can't you feel it? How right it feels? Should I proceed with an explanation or is it enough that I tell you that I need you so much that it will die from want if I don't take you _right_ now? I need to make you mine, Sam."

"I'm yours. You know I am!" Sam moans as Castiel straddles him, moving him up into the bed with no visible effort. Sam reaches for his lover, wanting more, everything he can get. "I love you!"

Sam can't even begin to comprehend how the severed bond has healed and escaped, forming connections on its own, hooking its claws into Cas. To Sam it's nothing less than a miracle. Castiel is right, because it feels right. "Any chance of you declaring yourself with less words and more action?" Sam laughs, he is wanted in a way he's never been wanted before, and it's delightful. He lets Cas pull him in for another kiss. Their lips meet and it's electrifying. Sam shivers, frantically pulling at Cas's clothes, refusing to stop kissing him. It feels so perfect, that Sam knows deep down that he is never letting go of this, never letting go of Castiel.

"If that's what you want," Cas growls, biting at Sam's lower lip, making Sam squirm in pleasurable plain. "I'll give you everything; I promised you that."

As if Cas hadn't already given Sam everything. Oh, one can never get too much of everything, especially not when it's as good as this. A shaky breath leaves Sam as Cas licks into his mouth, taking what Sam gives him more than willingly. Sam's instincts are overwhelming him; his body is way ahead of his brain. He's so hard for his lover, and a white-hot heat burns low, waiting only for more fuel.

Cas provides it. 

"I love you, Sam." The words are barely audible and bring nothing but more arousal and this intense feeling of sated, simmering happiness and joy. "Don't ever doubt that."

Right that instant Sam doesn't care about bonds, or about packs or mates or anything other than the feeling, the mutual feeling that tie them together in a way that is set apart from what they are, and instead is about _who_ they are. Sam is just so happy. He has everything, a family, a pack, a bondmate who loves and respects him. A lovemate. It can't get any better.

Except it can.

It gets better because Cas really doesn't mind playing to his alpha side, not afraid that Sam is going to freak out, and go on about how he's not some sweet little omega bitch. He isn't and Cas isn't some asshole alpha. Attuned to Sam's needs, Cas somehow senses that his big, bad alpha is welcomed on the playground. And Cas plays well. He downright growls at Sam, a deep rough, bass, grating against Sam's chest like a deep echo of the lust they have for each other. 

Roughly Cas pulls Sam's pants open, tugging carelessly at fabric and belt. Tender, gentle Cas is no longer tender. No, he's Sam's alpha, all demanding and brutal in his need to mate with his omega. And for the first time in his life, Sam lets go, allowing his desires to run amok, simply wanting to be omega and submit to a strong alpha. Only for Cas is he doing this, for Cas and for himself and for their mutual pleasure. Because he wants to. Because he needs, all instincts aside, to give Castiel what he wants.

"What do _you_ want?" Cas asks, forcing Sam to put words to his desire.

Sam doesn't hesitate. He's been oblivious to the bond he has created with Cas for too long, almost ruining the love that grew between them. He pulls back a little, remembering how Dean looked when he first saw Gabriel and gave in to him without a second thought. Sam isn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Oh, he's got a second chance and he's not going to question it. Not this time. He knows with a deep certainty exactly what he wants. "You. All of you," Sam says, the strength of his voice leaving no doubt that he means it with every fiber of his being. "I want you and the bond and the family we're going to make together. Love. A family. You. God, I want you, Cas!" 

If Sam thought Castiel was hungry before, he was wrong. Oh, he knew Castiel was strong, but the ease with which Cas lifts him up and kisses him is surprising. Sam lets out an involuntary yelp as he clings to Castiel, touching him everywhere he can reach before Cas puts him down on the bedside.

"I'd appreciate it if you took off your clothes," Castiel says quietly, a thinly veiled growl that lies rough and wild just beneath the soft words, making it clear that Sam's remaining clothes will be no more than rags if he doesn't discard them very, very soon. "Before I rip them off of you."

"Right," Sam whispers, looking up at his mate as he pushes his open pants over his hips, pulling boxer briefs with them to his knees. Desperately he tries to get shirt and t-shirt off at the same time, yanking at one sleeve as he tries to wriggle out of the last leg of his pants. It arouses him seeing how his impatience arouses Cas, a pink blush extending to cheeks and neck, making Cas look both innocent and very, very eager, all at the same time. Sam wants. God, he wants. 

Conquering the pants, he lies back, spreading his legs more wantonly than he'd ever thought he'd be able to. "Knot me. Now, Cas!" He's not begging. He's an omega demanding his right from his alpha. His right _to_ his alpha.

Cas makes a keening sound, as if it's too much for him, and apparently it is. Lighting fast, Cas is back on the bed, flipping Sam over, fingers at his entrance even before Sam has managed to put both knees on the bed. Fingers digging hard into Sam's skin, Cas holds him in place, playing with the rim of his clenching hole before he slips a few fingers inside. Sam hisses, ready and not ready at all. "More," he orders, panting into pillows, trying to hold down the cries that threaten to escape. His emotions are all jumbled together, and he can't keep holding on to them. 

"Make me your mate again! Sam moans. The limp, unengaged mating they'd had the first time is nothing like this, Cas going all alpha, instincts roaring. And Sam wants that too, Cas's urgency. "In me, Cas. I want you to... I need you to fuck me. Fuck me like you need me." Sam tilts his head, turning the expanse of his throat towards Cas, offering him another mating, a true one, one that will be the confirmation of their bond. 

"Need you," Cas breathes, licking at Sam's back, over the skin over his tailbone, over the little hills of his spine. Slick fingers move in Sam, widening and preparing, nerves on fire with pleasure. Oh, Cas has him, every atom of Sam belongs to Cas, and it makes Sam smile between moans, the deliciousness of this belonging. With Cas, it's a puzzle that suddenly has come to fall into place, neither is property of the other, it's merely a merging of souls, and this time it feels right — all of it. Even mating like this, the old way, Sam on his knees, open and wet for his alpha, is perfection. Because when they are done, they are back to being equals, lovers. With Cas, it is perfection.

Cas slides home in one long, excruciatingly slow push, his arms around Sam's waist, sweet words of love whispered in his ear before Cas presses a kiss on Sam's shoulder. The bite is harsh and deep and confirms the depth of their connection. "Mate," Castiel growls so possessively that Sam is sure that he'll need to fight for his right to leave their bed ever again.

Sam can't even try to think about how wonderful it feels. It's too good, being one with his lovemate, his bondmate, his lover. It's perfection, completion. "Mate," he moans as Castiel kisses him awkwardly, all sloppy and a little bloody and just... perfect.

Perfection.


End file.
